Dark Waters
by Hexalys
Summary: She woke up in another world, in a place where myths and fairytales were real. Now she's one of them, chosen by the Man in the Moon, and she can't help but wonder what he has planned for her. When the events of the movie start to take place, who is she supposed to side with, the Guardians or Pitch Black?
1. The Rise of Davy Jones

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the Rise of the Guardians, nor the book series it was based off of.

Okay, so I've seen plenty of stories where a girl from our world gets sucked into the RotG universe. It's a pretty popular premise, but there aren't a lot of well written ones. Plus, each one is either about the girl falling for Jack or Bunny (ugh, save me from the furries). This story is about an OC who's on Pitch's side.

So, there you go. Enjoy and review!

~Dark Waters~

"_The moon is a loyal companion. It never leaves. It's always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. Every day it's a different version of itself. Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. The moon understands what it means to be human. Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections._" ~Tahereh Mafi

Chapter 1: The Rise of Davy Jones

_It was dark. That would always be the first thing I'd remember upon awakening, the endless darkness that surrounded me. I simply floated in its' soft embrace, comforted by the knowledge that it would always be there. I wasn't scared of the dark, I felt at peace with it and with myself. And then suddenly, there was a light, so warm and welcoming, pushing back the darkness but not getting rid of it entirely. For that simple gesture, I felt gratitude towards the light. _

_The darkness had done nothing wrong. I wanted it there. _

_I felt myself being pulled upwards and gasped as my body hit the cool night air, distantly realizing that I had been underwater. I opened my eyes, and even though I wasn't out of breath, I panted heavily as I looked up at the sky. My eyes instinctively landed on one thing, the source of the warm light, and I was astonished by the sight of it._

_The moon shone brightly in its full stage, wrapping its warmth around me in a soothing manner that made me feel safe. It's funny, I'd seen the moon a million times before, and yet that was the first time I saw more than just its cratered, silvery-white surface._

_That was the first time I saw Manny and the first time he spoke to me. It was the day I got my new name._

"_**Davy Jones.**_"

The young woman tilted her head to the side in curiosity. Had the moon said that? There was a niggling in the back of her head, screaming for attention, but she could only focus on the moon and its warm light at the moment. Her feet touched something solid and she looked down to see that she'd landed on a wooden structure. Looking around more closely, the woman realized she was actually standing on a mast that towered over a large wooden ship.

"_**Davy Jones.**_"

The woman looked back up at the moon, feeling very confused. Was that supposed to be her name? She shook her head; no, her name was Jonesy Davidson, not Davy Jones. It seemed that the earlier fog that had muffled her thoughts was beginning to clear and Jonesy remembered so many things about her life and who she was. And then she realized something very important.

The moon shouldn't be able to talk.

Why was she on a seemingly abandoned ship? Where was she? What was going on? Jonesy tried to recall where she'd been before waking up in the water, but there was nothing there, her memory was blank. She felt groggy, as if she'd only been asleep, but had woken up with no idea of just how long she'd been out of it.

Nothing felt real to her. Maybe she was in shock?

"_**Davy Jones.**_"

Jonesy looked back up at the moon, unreasonably irritated with it for not making any sense. If it was going to talk, it might as well say something useful. She looked down again, finally realizing how high up she was, and scrambled safely into the crow's nest, hugging the surrounding wood for dear life.

"What's going on!?" She shouted before looking back up at the moon. It was silent, offering nothing but its' warm light and she took a deep breath. "Okay Jonesy, think, you're not dreaming, this is way too real to be a dream." She muttered, closing her eyes and trying to ignore the wind that ruffled her hair. "I'm stuck in what looks like the middle of the ocean, trapped on a colonial styled ship with only the moon, which is somehow talking, for company." Needless to say, she was doing a poor job of calming herself down.

"_**Davy Jones.**_"

Jonesy turned to glare at the moon, about ready to tell it to shut up, when something clicked in the back of her mind. A movie came to her, the Rise of the Guardians, and she remembered the first scene of the film. Jonesy felt her jaw drop as I gazed up at the moon, no, not the moon, she corrected herself, the Man in the Moon.

"This is real, isn't it? You're real." There wasn't a verbal answer, but she felt Manny's light thicken and embrace her, much like a hug. Jonesy leaned into it; feeling like a hug was exactly what she needed at the moment. "How?" She gasped, feeling lightheaded and dizzy, suddenly overwhelmed by the truth. He didn't answer her, but his light did become warmer, thicker, and it soothed her frayed nerves. "Okay, so why am I here?"

"_**Davy Jones.**_"

And then she suddenly understood what Manny was saying. She'd died, somehow, and he'd brought her to the Guardians' Universe to be Davy Jones. The only thing that came to her mind though was the character from the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. Jonesy didn't know anything about the odd personification, except for the old sailor saying, "Lost to Davy Jones' locker."

"Isn't Davy Jones supposed to be a guy?" The woman asked as she looked down at herself, as if to check that she was still female. She was, much to her relief, but Jonesy quickly realized that her clothes had changed. She now had the ensemble of a pirate.

Jonesy wore black leather-like britches that were tucked into deep blue boots that reached the middle of her calves. She found that a fin-like appendage stuck out from the back of her boot, going upwards a few inches and ending just below the knees. Curious, she reached down to touch it, wondering why Manny had added such an odd feature to her clothes.

She jumped back with a startled yelp as she realized that the fin wasn't a part of the boot, but a part of her. '_I have fin-frill things growing out of my calves!_' Jonesy quickly went to inspect the rest of her body and found smaller fins located on the side of her arms, resting in between her wrists and elbows. The fins were a light blue color, and there were patches of blue and green scales covering the areas of skin where each fin rested.

Her hands flew to her face and Jonesy let out a relieved sigh as she felt smooth flesh and not scales or gills, though her ears were now pointy, like an elf. Her fingernails had also changed. They were longer and shaped to perfection, like she'd just had a professional pedicure; they were a seafoam green color and Jonesy prayed that the coloring was just nail polish.

Somewhat relieved, she continued to explore the rest of her body.

She was wearing a thin seafoam green belt and a white pirate shirt with a deep blue vest over it that matched her boots in color. The quarter length sleeves were rolled up to her elbows and away from my arm fins. She also wore a black belt-like strap over her chest that held a sword at the end which came to rest by her left hip.

Jonesy discovered that her long hair had also changed colors, where before it had been brown; it was now a light blue that was the same color as her fins. A large hat rested on her head; looking similar to the one that Barbosa had worn in Pirates of the Caribbean. She took it off to examine it more closely.

The fabric of the hat was black and it had four feathers stitched into its' left side. The first feather was a dark blue color and it was by far the largest and fluffiest feather she'd ever seen. Next were two smaller feathers that were the same length, but while one was a light blue, the other was colored seafoam green. The last and smallest feather had blue and white strips. Oddly enough, a large pink starfish accessory was stitched to the side of her hat, keeping the left brim side pointed up and making the already vibrant feathers even more noticeable.

As Jonesy continued her search to see what other changes she'd gone through, she found that a thin trail of scales went up along her spine, ending at the base of her head. There were a few more random patches of scales over the rest of her body as well, but at least Manny hadn't turned her into a human/animal hybrid like he'd done with Tooth.

She pulled out her sword next, recognizing it as a cutlass, the classic sword of the pirate, and gave it a few swings. She'd never held a real sword before, but for some odd reason, Jonesy felt comfortable holding the foreign weapon in her right hand.

On the hilt of the sword it had a gold guard with a seafoam green colored grip. A light blue tassel was tied on the end of the hilt; the leather twine was a few inches long and had a miniature pink starfish resting at the end. The silver blade wasn't too thick or too thin and it curved upwards a little at the tip. Satisfied, Jonesy sheathed her new sword and turned her attention to the ship.

"_**Davy Jones.**_"

"Yeah, great, whatever, now how bout you tell me something useful." She muttered as she peeked over the railing to the crow's nest. "Like how to get down from here maybe? I don't suppose I can fly like Jack, huh?" She asked, not getting a response from Manny, but she hadn't really been expecting one anyways.

The wind responded though, a sudden gust knocked up a long rope and she instinctively reached out to grab it. Jonesy looked down uncertainly, but the wind brushed up against the side of her facing, easing her fears a little. She clutched the thick rope and jumped, a scream breaking free from her mouth as she swung downwards, the wind seemingly pushing harder against her back to make her go faster.

Her yell quickly turned into laughter.

She landed on the upper deck of the ship, near the helm, and let out a slightly hysterical chuckle as the wind tugged on her clothes, as if it were asking her to play with it. The waves batted against the ship and a breeze carried the misty sea-spray up to her face, spreading it out gently over her tan skin. Jonesy sighed happily, feeling as if she'd just been reunited with an old friend.

"_**Davy Jones.**_"

"Alright, I get it, I'm Davy Jones." Jonesy said with a small laugh as she turned back to Manny. "I take it the ship is mine?" She asked and took the burst of warm light as a yes. "Well, I suppose I'll have to think of a name for it then." The white sails lifted outwards and the ship rocked beneath her feet, Jonesy was pretty sure the vessel was telling her that it also wanted a name. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and say my job is to help kids, somehow."

A thick moonbeam shone down by her feet, the shadow coming from the mainmast stretching and changing. It shifted into a small human figure that could only be a child, lost and adrift at sea. Her ship appeared suddenly with a shadow version of Jonesy pulling the child out of the water. The shadows shifted to her docking the ship near land and safely dropping the child off to be reunited with their family.

"I got it Manny; I'll make sure that the children are safe when they're on my oceans." She said seriously, overcoming her earlier shock, excited to be a part of the Guardians' Universe. The shadowy images changed again and Jonesy saw herself playing with some children, each of them dressed in their own pirate garb, as if they were playing dress up. "And I get to play with the kiddies when there on my ship? Sweet, I'd hate for this to be all work and no play."

As the moonbeam faded, she took up position behind the wheel, gripping the wooden pegs at ten and two. The new spirit looked out over the vast ocean, chuckling as the wind battered against her back, eager to start the voyage. She tipped her feathered hat towards Manny, feeling his presence leave, and adjusted the sword resting at her hip.

"Alright Wind, show me what you've got." She called and the Wind roared in response. The sails jutted forwards as the Wind pushed hard against the white fabric, causing the ship to sail for the first time. The Wind seemed to know which way to go and Jonesy followed its' lead, letting it take her wherever it wanted.

As she shouted in high spirits, Jonesy couldn't help but wonder when she was going to meet the others.

~Dark Waters~

It wasn't long before Jonesy realized that there was one small problem with her new ship, she had no idea how to steer it. Oh, she figured out the basics well enough on her own, but that didn't mean she had any idea how to navigate through the terrible storm she was currently stuck in.

The rain was as hard as hail; the loud clap of thunder reverberated through the ocean itself, and the lightning which streaked across the clouds every few minutes seemed to electrify the storm's harshness, filling it with ever more dangers. The Wind tried its best to help, but there was a more powerful gale pushing hard from the opposite direction. The sea that Jonesy had felt such a connection to after awakening last night didn't calm at her command, but simply continued to smash against her ship with its crushing waves.

This was a natural storm that she and the Wind had no control over.

Despite the rain that pelted against her body painfully and the threatening waves that tried to pull her into the sea, Jonesy felt excited, gleeful. She'd always been an adrenaline junkie. She'd been the eight year old kid who ventured into dark caves when others were too frightened, the fearless fifteen year old teen who jumped off a thirty foot waterfall to prove she wasn't chicken. And finally, she'd been the irresponsible twenty-six year old adult who constantly did reckless things and never grew up.

As the Wind brushed up beside her, she started to laugh, telling it that everything was fine. She was having fun. That is, until she spotted the raging whirlpool not even twenty yards ahead of her. Jonesy tried to steer the ship away, but the pull of the tide was too strong. She felt the ship shiver under her feet, as if it was afraid, and she patted the wheel gently, whispering that she wouldn't abandon it.

A Captain always goes down with the ship.

She looked up at the heavens, searching for the Moon, only to see the entire sky covered in dark ominous clouds. Not even twenty-four hours after being made Davy Jones and she was already in a life-or-death situation. Jonesy was pretty sure that this officially made her the worst spirit ever. As she stared at the swirling water ahead, she morbidly wondered if it would kill her. _'A little help right now would be greatly appreciated Manny._'

As if answering her silent plea, Jonesy heard a shout from nearby her ship. She still held fast against the helm, trying to hold the rudder still as best as she could, when she saw a woman climb over the ship's railing and onto the deck. Before she could say anything, more women join the first, who by then was already beginning to dish out orders.

"Lake, Pearl, Reef, Coral, get those sails down immediately. River, Creek, dispatch the anchor, it won't stop the ship, but it'll definitely slow us down. Bay, Shelly, I want you two to watch the riggings and ropes, if anything goes wrong, yell. The rest of you, hold on to something." The woman shouted before she approached Jonesy at the helm.

"Err… hi." Jonesy said as the woman stopped beside her, wanting nothing more than to hit herself upside the head. From the woman's unimpressed look, Jonesy could tell she wanted to hit her too. "Not that I'm not grateful for the assistance, but uh, who are you?"

"I'm Undine, your First Mate." The woman said firmly, her dark green eyes barrowing into Jonesy. Just like with how she could feel the ship and the Wind, Jonesy instinctively knew that Undine was indeed supposed to be here First Mate. "Now step aside, I'll take it from here."

After that, the situation not only became surreal, it was also anticlimactic. Undine and the others skillfully worked together, leaving Jonesy to twiddle her thumbs as she watched them bustle around the ship. It took only a couple of minutes for Undine to steer the vessel away from the whirlpool and about another fifteen to get them out of the storms range altogether.

As Undine congratulated the other women in avoiding a crisis, Jonesy finally stepped forward and made her presence known. The women all turned to her and Jonesy stared back, her hand placed discreetly on the hilt of her cutlass. She made no move to speak, trying to project confidence, so Undine took it upon herself to break the ice.

"Allow me to properly introduce ourselves, Davy Jones–"

"_Captain._" Jonesy interjected without thinking, instantly regretting her wiseass nature at that moment. Fortunately, it seemed Undine wasn't the type to take offense at being interrupted.

"Captain Davy Jones." Undine corrected herself, sounding much more likable than she had earlier. "The Man in the Moon created us to help you and the children in any way possible."

"So, you're like my Yetis and Fairies?" She asked, thinking about the helpers that North and Tooth had in the movie. She heard more than one of the girls chuckle and Jonesy, embarrassed, instantly tried to explain herself better. "What I meant was, North has Yetis that help make his toys and Tooth has her Fairies to help collect the teeth. They help them, uh, like you're here to help me…" Jonesy trailed off there, feeling like a complete idiot, but Undine simply nodded.

"Then yes, I suppose we are your Yetis and Fairies, Captain." She responded calmly while smiling a little, and this time, Jonesy laughed with the others, mentally releasing a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

And just like that, she had herself a crew.

~Dark Waters~

Captain Davy Jones steered her ship, the Flying Dutchman, over the few dark clouds that covered the night sky, basking in the half moon's light. She had discovered that her ship could fly only a few days after meeting Undine and the others. While the Flying Dutchman had officially gained a crew, more often than not, Jonesy would be traveling solo. Her separated crewmates would be patrolling the seas almost constantly, searching for any child who might need help.

She'd seen Undine only a few times since then, most visits consisted of the First Mate teaching Jonesy how to run a ship. Jonesy hadn't seen the others much besides sparing a few minutes to catch up and give reports about any children they'd managed to save. Just last week Briny had saved a little girl who'd fallen overboard somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean.

With the others gone, it meant that Jonesy had to steer the Dutchman all by herself again. Since she'd still been so unfamiliar with ships in the beginning, she'd had no idea how to properly navigate through the fog that had suddenly appeared one early morning. She also hadn't seen those jagged rocks until it was too late. Thankfully, the Wind hadn't panicked like she had. It had simply raised her ship into the air, flying it safely over the rocks.

Of course, once Jonesy discovered her ship could fly, she absolutely had to call it the Flying Dutchman. Her crewmates had been less than thrilled with the fact that the ship could fly; they belonged to the seas, not the sky. Jonesy had understood their aversion to flying and accepted the fact that her voyages in the air would be accompanied by the Wind alone.

So there she was, not even two months later after waking up as a spirit, flying over Europe on her incredibly awesome ship. Jonesy looked down at the little town below, still unused to seeing such small and underdeveloped buildings. Where once the world had been covered in towering structures made of metal and concrete, it was now replaced with small houses made of wood and stones.

Not only had Manny brought her to a different universe, he'd also sent her back in time.

The year was now 1513, the age of discovery and explorations. It was two hundred years before Jack Frost would be born and five hundred years before the events in the movie took place. She swore up a storm after making that little discovery and fortunately for Manny, it had been a new moon later that night.

As Jonesy dipped the Dutchman a little to sail through a cloud, she reached up with a hand to touch a trailing puff of vapor, coating her arm in water that feel wonderful on her fin. She let out a contented sigh and looked up at the half moon, finding a bit of peace in the quiet moment.

Suddenly a stream of golden sand appeared out of nowhere, swirling around the masts' white sails. Jonesy smiled widely; she knew who that belonged to. Sure enough, when she looked over the starboard bow, she spotted the Sandman hovering besides the Dutchman in a little golden rowboat made of sand.

"Ahoy!" She yelled towards Sandy, who created his own pirate hat with a very extravagant feather, and tipped it off to her in greetings.

Jonesy had decided a month ago that since she looked like a pirate, then she should sound like a pirate too. She'd spent most of her time around the pirates and sailors of the seas, picking up on their lingo and mannerisms. Sadly, she often still found herself slipping into her old style of speech if she didn't concentrate on what she was saying. She enjoyed talking like a pirate, it was fun. Plus, if she did talk normally, using her centuries' slang and diction, she was pretty sure it would give away the fact that she didn't belong in this world.

And Jonesy wanted to keep the truth about where she was from to herself.

Sandy disembarked from his boat and stepped onto the Dutchman, where Jonesy greeted him happily. She took in the shorter man's appearance and resisted the strong urge to hug him. Ever since she saw him in the movie, she had always wondered if hugging the Sandman would be like hugging a giant marshmallow. She managed to restrain herself and didn't hug him, though it was mainly for the sake of her image as a tough pirate.

Still, there was no denying that Sandy was utterly adorable in real life.

"Evenin', the name be Captain Davy Jones and this fine ship that yer standin' on be the Flyin' Dutchman. I take it ye be the Sandman?" She asked gruffly, earning a happy nod from Sandy. The fact that he didn't laugh instead scored him a few points in her book. When she'd been practicing her pirate-y grammar, Jonesy had worried that others would think that she sounded like an idiot. "Then it be a pleasure t' 'ave ye on me ship, Sandy."

Again he nodded, shooting off a few streams of Dream Sand that went overboard and down towards the children below. Jonesy smiled a little, thinking about all the good dreams Sandy must be giving at the moment. It made her speculate about what she brought to children. North conveyed Wonder, Tooth had their Memories, Bunny gave Hope, and Jack would have Fun one day.

What was her gift to children going to be? Or was having a Center a Guardian only thing?

She spent the rest of the night talking to Sandy. She spouted out odd things at random, jumping from subject to subject, but Sandy didn't seem to mind her inability to stay focused on one topic for very long. A good thing too, since it looked like her Attention Deficiency Disorder hadn't gone away after being reanimated as a spirit.

In turn, Sandy offered his own opinions and replies through sand language. Jonesy learned that Sandy was actually her elder by about a thousand years, officially making him the oldest Guardian. When she'd asked about others like them, he'd told her about North and the others. She even found out that the Guardians had only defeated Pitch ten years ago, putting an end to the Dark Ages.

Now there was the problem Jonesy had been reluctant to think about ever since she woke up. What was she going to do when the events in the movie started? Was she going to side with Jack and the Guardians, or was she going to side with Pitch?

Out of the all the characters, Pitch had been her favorite. That wasn't to say that she didn't like the others; North, Jack, and Sandy were right there under Pitch, she had just liked the Nightmare King more, that's all.

"Oh, so ye do more than be given sweet dreams?" She asked lightly, trying to seem unconvinced of his abilities even though she very well knew that he could kick her ass. He nodded seriously and she scoffed, barely holding back a snicker as she saw the annoyed look on his face, making Sandy look all the more adorable and not at all like the badass that he really was.

Some of her humor must have shown through, because he was beginning to look even more annoyed. Sandy lowered a brow and pointed at the cutlass by her waist, the sand morphing above his head to take the form of two dueling fencers. The sand shifted again, becoming a question mark and Jonesy knew exactly what he was saying. She'd always been brilliant at charades.

"Course I know how t' fight." She responded, now it was Sandy's turn to look skeptical. Only Jonesy had the feeling that he wasn't faking it. "S'not complicated, the pointy end just goes into the other guy, don't it? Easy 'nough matey." Now Sandy looked really unimpressed. "Fine, how bout we 'ave ourselves a little mock fight then, ya know, just t' test our skills."

While Sandy seemed to think it over, Jonesy removed her hat and set in on a random peg of the steering wheel. She went over to the open deck, eyes focusing on nothing as she mentally reviewed all the knowledge she'd gathered from watching others learn how to fight. A month of secondhand tutoring under her belt and yet here she was, challenging the Sandman to a fight.

Man, was she dumb or what?

She moved into position a good ten paces away from the mainmast and watched as Sandy floated over to the smaller mast near the aft of the ship. Right, Sandy wasn't a fan of close combat; he preferred to use his whips in battle.

Jonesy was startled slightly by a sudden beam of moonlight highlighted the deck and sent a glance up at the Moon. She felt Manny's presence appear above as the sky became brighter, moonbeams basking her in their unnatural warmth. She shared a look with Sandy, who simply shrugged as if to say that Manny just wanted to watch. He conjured up a cloud of sand for him to hover on, the legendary whips taking form in his pudgy little hands.

She took up her own fighting stance, bringing out her cutlass and brandishing it upwards, feet separated as she moved to stand sideways. Sandy seemed to be assessing her form, and from the way he shook his head; she could tell she'd already done something wrong. Still, she had always been the "learn by doing" type, so she charged forwards anyways, blade raised high.

Sandy launched a whip at her and Jonesy moved to cut it, treating the weapon as a normal whip and not as the Dream Sand that Sandy could easily manipulate the shape of. The sand wrapped around the blade of her cutlass and it was only her foreknowledge of Sandy's abilities that had her let go of the sword before he could reel her in. She stumbled a little and looked up to see Sandy smiling at her, waving her sword about and reforming a pirate hat on his head.

"Two out o' three?" He smirked and gave her back her sword. They continued to spar, only this time Sandy offered corrections and ideas for how Jonesy could wield her cutlass better. She guessed, after watching North fight for so long, that Sandy must have picked up a thing or two over the years.

They finally called it a night hours later when Manny's presence left the ship. Sandy stayed to talk with her a little more, the Dutchman flying over other continents so that Sandy could still spread his dreams to sleeping children. It was only when the sun began to peak over the horizon did they say their goodbyes. Jonesy got him to promise to visit again soon, preferably when her crew was present. She was interested to see how her shipmates would react to Sandy and his adorableness.

As Jonesy headed back to the seas, her thoughts eventually returned to Pitch and about what she would do when the events of the movie finally started. Surely she was supposed to do something. There had to be a reason for why Manny brought her here, especially since he likely knew how much she liked Pitch.

What did Manny want from her, what was she supposed to do?

~Dark Waters~

Yay, I'm so happy to finally get this story posted. You have no idea how glad it made me to write this. I've been holding back on putting this up for a few months now, since I wanted to focus on the stories I've already posted, but I got bored and simply couldn't resist the temptation any longer. The cover of the story is what Jonesy looks like. I do not own the image, I simply recolored it, but kudos to the original creator; it's exactly what I was looking for!

As you've probably guessed, this story will follow the movie with a couple of twists thrown in. I'm going to focus on Jonesy and how she interacts with the others in the next few chapters, giving you something of a prequel. We'll be following her adventures and how she affects the Guardian Universe now that she's there. A couple big changes is that she'll being hanging around with Pitch and that she won't be leaving Jack on his lonesome. It'll be pre-move, during, and post-movie, just in case you're wondering.

~Hexalys~


	2. The King and the Captain

I want to thank everyone for taking the time to review!

Okay guys, second chapter coming at ya. Be forewarned that Jonesy is continuing with her pirate-speak. I really hope the writing doesn't annoy anyone, because it's really fun for me to write like a pirate. Plus I think it gives her a little more similarity to the characters, seeing as most of them have accents. North is Russian, Bunny is Australian, and Pitch is British… okay, so only three of them have accents.

Enjoy the chapter and review afterwards, me hearties!

~Dark Waters~

"_Darkness always had its part to play. Without it, how would we know when we walked in the light? It's only when its ambitions become too grandiose that it must be opposed, disciplined, sometimes – if necessary – brought down for a time. Then it will rise again, as it must._" ~Clive Barker

Chapter 2: The King and the Captain

It was the sudden unmistakable dread and terror that called to Pitch, that which lured him out of the shadows and onto a ship adrift at sea. Ever since his downfall at the Guardians' hands fifteen years ago, he had been greatly weakened. He'd lost so many Believers so quickly that it left him staggering and gasping for air.

He now spent his nights slinking from bed to bed, searching for a way to make the children Believe in him again. The ominous noise of floorboards creaking, an almost inaudible thump coming from the closet or down the hall, of tree branches scratching at bedroom windows, the shadows twisted into horrible monsters creeping along the walls and ceiling. Pitch threw every single trick he knew at them, getting almost no results for his efforts.

Oh, the little ones reacted easily enough, shivering in their beds and too afraid to investigate where the noises were coming from. Pitch could always get them to scream for their parents when he rose from underneath the bed, creating shadow-like claws that reached out to drag the child into the darkness forever. But adults quickly soothed their fears, saying that he was only a bad dream and the Belief that they'd felt towards him was taken away within moments after being born.

It was a torturous cycle.

It was also much more difficult to affect older children now. Most of the time, they just slept through his scare tactics. Those that did wake up were able to reassure themselves that his attempts were merely caused by the wind. Their reactions, or rather lack thereof, left Pitch with a bitter hollowness in his chest that felt like humiliation and tasted like failure.

Before the Guardians, before his defeat, everyone had feared him, even the adults. He could stand behind them in broad daylight and whisper such irrational fears that the humans instantly clung too. "_Witches are amongst you, such vile and horrible things; they'll turn you into a toad if you're not careful._" "_Medicine? Lies, that's not healing, its' sorcery, they're trying to steal your soul._" "_There are Demons living in the forest, keep your children inside and send them to bed early so that they may remain safe._"

Such foolish superstitions, but the adults and children had believed him, simply because of their fears. It had made Pitch laugh, seeing the humans swarm over themselves like rabid dogs, picking off the weaker creature for simply being different. "_For surely anything that's different from you and your ways must be inherently evil._"

Fear had been so abundant then.

And now there was almost nothing left. The Guardians' and their light had chased away his fear and darkness. The world was changing rapidly; man was now calling what used to be the Dark Ages, the Age of Discovery. New things, changes, humans used to fear such ideals. Now they welcomed it, went looking for an adventure.

It sickened him.

But then, whilst he was making rounds in a small fishing village just off the coast of Spain, Pitch had sensed it, the delicious fear and it came from another spirit. He hadn't wasted the opportunity, even if the spirit in question was one of the Guardians. It had been too long since he'd tasted such a potent fear.

It had puzzled him at first, seeing the large ship with white sails, and the figurehead at the front of the ship carved to look like a mermaid. Pitch found that sailing to discover new lands was the only good thing to come out of this Age of Discovery. Humans were afraid of the beasts that lurked beneath the deep. Fears of krakens, of angry sea gods, and seducing creatures that led sailors to a watery grave, those superstitions were where he could find most of the fear now.

Children sailing to the New World were afraid of all these things and more, afraid of the storms that battered into the ship, afraid of the powerful waves that could run them aground, afraid of drowning. Yes, in Pitch's opinion, sailing across the sea was the best thing to be inspired by this new era.

He carefully crept onto the ship, hiding in the shadows as he observed his surroundings. It looked normal enough from what he could see. The ship seemed to lack any cannons, but there was always the chance of them being stored below deck. Barrels rested at random intervals, extra rope was stockpiled in areas that might have need of it in case of an emergency, but something still struck him as different.

As he looked about, a flutter of black caught his eye and he spotted a large dark flag stationed at the top of the mainmast. It had a white skull and a pair of crossbones sewn into the black fabric and he wondered what the ominous symbol meant. He'd seen a few ships boating similar looking flags before now too.

As he took a closer look, Pitch realized that ship seemed strange because it was clean in the most impossible of ways. The sails were as white as clouds when they should be stained yellow from the spray of the sea. The decks shone like dark varnished wood, missing the scuffle marks and grime that he'd seen on so many other ships. The barnacles and salt trails were missing from the lower sides of the boat and the riggings had yet to be covered in rust, instead they glinted sharply in the quarter moon's light.

The ship looked new, too pristine and too perfect. It only made him suspect that the ship itself was just like him and the spirit he was hunting, invisible to non-Believers. It was a gift from the Man in the Moon, no doubt, much like his Dark Cave or North's Workshop. Pitch, however, must have become too distracted by his investigations. He felt something heavy drop upon him and he instinctively began to struggle, entangling the thing around him even further.

"All hands on deck, all hands on deck!" A feminine voice from above him shouted, and he cursed as he heard the response to the woman's shouts. Feet stampeded below deck, vibrating through the wooden boards he was now laying on. He felt the thing, a net he realized, tighten around him as the woman dragged him from the shadows and out onto the open deck.

He looked up to see that he was now surrounded by a crew that seemed to be entirely made out of women. There seemed to be a standard uniform among them, each with different variations. Their britches instantly caught his attention as they seemed to shimmer in the moonlight a little. There were different colors, various blues, greens, reds, purples, and each vibrant in their own way. They went from their hips down to their shoeless feet, seemingly blending into their heels and waists, as if the material were a part of them.

It was not unlike his cloak.

For their shirts, each woman wore a variant of a plain white blouse, some had long sleeves, others were ruffled, a few were cut at different lengths, the hems ending in the middle of the stomach, or opened at the collar, revealing a little of their chests. No matter what style, none of these women seemed to share an ounce of modesty when it came to their, albeit very attractive, bodies.

The color of their hair ranged from various shades of blonde to brunettes and redheads. In their tresses, the women had styled themselves with shells of all colors and shapes, taking away even more from the uniformed look and making them stand out as individuals. Each woman was beautiful, there seemed to be some kind of otherworldly glow to them, making them all the more enchanting. More than once Pitch had to shake off the allure they were giving off.

"It's a man!" One of the women shouted. It didn't sound like she was upset with his presence on their ship, but rather excited instead. "Do you think the Captain will let us keep him?" Pitch wasn't sure whether he should be worried or not.

"I want to play with him for a little while." Another girl said and he felt a smidgen of apprehension begin to build in the back of his mind. "How long do you think we have before the Captain gets here?" As the women began to argue about how much time they had and what they wanted to do with him, Pitch caught himself hoping that this captain would arrive sooner than later.

~Dark Waters~

Jonesy woke up with a jolt, her breathing a little strained, as she tried to focus on where she was and not on the nightmare she'd just been having. She slowly pulled herself out of bed and rubbed at her tired seafoam green colored eyes. She looked up at her bedroom, the Captain's Cabin.

Manny had already gifted the room with everything she could ever need, but after five years, she had added her own things to it. Her bed was just a tad too small to be classified as Queen sized, but it was still too big to call it a Double. It was dressed in the same sheets and blankets that Manny had given it, continuing with the color scheme of blues and seafoam green. She had a couple of different sized pillows and a rather unique pink one that was shaped like a starfish.

A small chandelier hung in the middle of the cabin, the candles now partially melted from use. A row of windows took up most of the back wall, looking out over the ocean and providing adequate lighting during the day and on clear moonlit nights. Some candelabras had been strategically placed throughout the decently sized room to give off extra light when needed.

A large mahogany desk rested in front of the windows, books and maps of the New World rested on top of it, cluttered by her ever growing collection of literature. A giant wooden globe of the world that showed the lights of Believers was setup a little a ways from the desk, resting near a bookcase that was already half full. Jonesy knew none of those lights were for her, but she hoped that someday soon that would change.

Her own personal effects had been added to the cabin. A vanity table with a large mirror had been pushed up against the wall near her bed, the dark colored wood blending in perfectly with the rooms' décor. The vanity's draws were filled with impressive jewels and trinkets that Jonesy had plundered from sunken ships. She'd discovered a few years ago, quite by accident really, that she could breathe underwater and could swim as fast as any Mermaid.

A knock came from the door, bringing Jonesy out of her slight daze.

"Yes?" She asked, the question sounding more like a croak. She cleared her throat and tried again. "What is it?"

"Captain, you're wanted on deck. Flow caught an intruder onboard." Undine said from behind the cabin's door.

"Aye." Jonesy answered tiredly, shaking her head to wake herself up. She got up and went to the vanity, grabbing a brush and running it through her tangled light blue hair. Her cheeks still had the few freckles she had when human, but her lips had changed to a bright pink color, looking glossed and making them more noticeable against her tan skin.

Reaching into the draws, Jonesy pulled out some jewelry. Four gold bracelets, two placed on each wrist, a pair of jade earrings, a matching jade ring, and finally a gold chained necklace that had a simple pink starfish ornament at the end. She then went over to the trunk that rested at the foot of her bed and pulled out a naval captain's coat.

It was black, donned in gold buttons that went down the front and up along the sleeves. The outer trim was white and she'd stitched a small pink starfish onto the coat, resting just a few inches below her collarbone and over her heart. The coat's length was long, stopping at her calves, with a slit going up the coattail, ending near her upper thighs.

She had to roll back the sleeves so that they wouldn't irritate her fins, which turned out to be very sensitive to any form of touch. She stumbled over to put on her boots, minding her leg fins, adjusted her sword into place, and grabbed her hat before leaving her cabin. As she arrived on the upper deck, Jonesy saw her crew quickly pull away from something huddled on the floor. It was a man, which explained what the commotion was all about, but he was wrapped up in a net, making it difficult for her to see who Flow had captured.

"Avast ye scallywags, back up and let me see what scurvy codfish be tryin' t' stowaway on me ship." Jonesy called out, effectively quieting down her crew. She moved closer and blinked in surprise at the man who glared up at her. "Well shiver me timbers, if it isn't Pitch Black."

"Ah, so you've heard of me." Pitch said, somehow looking not at all bothered by the fact that he was trapped in a net made of enchanted seaweed. "I'm afraid I cannot say the same." It took Jonesy a few seconds to recover from her shock, but she still managed to muster a small smile for the Nightmare King.

"Beggin' yer pardon Mister Black, the name be Davy Jones and I be the Cap'n o' this here vessel. Now, if I may be askin', what business 'ave ye bein' on me ship, uninvited-like as it were?" She asked, making no move to free the man just yet.

Ever since meeting Sandy five years ago, she had wondered who she was going to run into next. Meeting Pitch had become a daydream that she'd fantasied about daily, each made-up scenario more unbelievable than the last. She'd never imagined meeting him like this, but it didn't make the fact that she was actually talking to him any less cool.

"Well then, Davy Jones–"

"_Captain_ _Davy Jones_." Jonesy interrupted, unable to resist emulating her favorite pirate. She heard Bubbles share a giggle with Misty and Brook quickly shushed them both, making her smile a little. "Forgive me manners, allow me t' introduce ya t' the finest crew t'ever sail the seven seas. Thar be Atlantica, Aqua, Bay, Brook, Briny, Bubbles, Coral, Creek, Finlay, Flow, Foam, Gully, Indiana, Kelpie, Lake, Lagoon, Nautical, Marina, Misty, Oasis, Oceana, Pacifica, Pearl, Reef, River, Saline, Shelly, Shore, Stream, and finally me First Mate, Undine." Each of her shipments gave their own greeting, ranging from an excited hello from Bubbles to a reserved nod from Undine.

"A pleasure, now if you don't mind, I'd rather like to be out of this net. It smells." Bubbles giggled again before whispering something to Misty that sounded suspiciously like, "_He's cute and funny_." The creeping smirk on Pitch's face told Jonesy that she wasn't only one who heard Bubbles' little comment.

Jonesy nodded to her crew, Finlay and Indiana stepped forward before the others could, and removed the net. Pitch stood after a moment, his lanky frame straightening out, making him the tallest person aboard the Flying Dutchman. Jonesy felt extremely giddy at that moment and she wanted nothing more than to gush about how awesome she thought Pitch was. She restrained herself, but just barely.

"Now then matey, if yer comfortable, how can I be of service to ye?" Jonesy asked cordially, knowing that Pitch couldn't have caused her earlier nightmare. She clearly remembered him admitting in the movie that it had taken him a while to learn how to change Dream Sand into Nightmares. The Captain could hardly hold back a shudder as she recalled her bad dream. She remembered feeling hopeless, the sound of rushing water, and of someone screaming her name. The nightmare was hazy now. Jonesy couldn't remember what it was about, only that it had shaken her, badly.

"I was attracted to this magnificent vessel by a… scent, a feeling really." Jonesy felt her breath catch somewhere in her chest as her seafoam green eyes made contact with Pitch's grey-gold irises. She could tell just by the look he was giving, he'd come to the ship because he'd sensed fear, her fear.

"That's no excuse to be skulking around in the shadows like a bilge rat." Undine retorted firmly. Jonesy looked over at her First Mate fondly. Undine was the only one who'd incorporated pirate talk into her everyday speech. It was just a few words here and there, but it made Jonesy very pleased with herself all the same.

"Indeed." Pitch agreed as he nodded his head, giving them all a sharp smile. "And had I known that this ship was governed by such fair maidens, I would have introduced myself properly." Jonesy smirked as she heard another one of her shipmates giggle. She knew what Pitch was doing; he was trying to flatter his way out of this. Jonesy had to admit that it was working too, her crewmates _loved_ men.

"Ah, 'fraid that were me own doings." She said, pointedly looking away from her gawking crew as she answered Pitch's earlier explanation. "Perhaps we could take this t'me cabin?" She asked lightly and the girls turned to whisper to each other in excited tones. "More a private matter really."

"I wouldn't want to intrude–" Pitch began, trying to back away, but the crew of women rushed forward, none too keen to see the male leave their company so soon.

"Oh you aren't, believe me." Shore said as she pushed Pitch forward and the Boogeyman looked caught off guard for a moment. Bubbles wrapped herself around his left arm, tugging on it playfully and gaining his attention.

"It's been so long since we've had a man onboard." She bubbled, absentmindedly twirling a locket of her long, curly blonde hair with her fingers.

"Actually, we've never had a man onboard." Aqua corrected as she latched onto Pitch's other arm, pressing her shapely body against his, her straight dirty blonde hair swaying against the small of her back.

"What about Sandy?" Undine pointed out, she and Jonesy being the only two women who hadn't swarmed over to Pitch.

"Ooooh, I love Sandy, he's so cute!" Oceana cooed, getting a similar response from the other crew members.

"True, but Sandy isn't… manly." Kelpie muttered shyly as her cheeks turned a soft pink, almost matching her short strawberry blonde hair in color. "Pitch, on the other hand…" She trailed off there as her blush deepened, making some of the others hum in agreement.

Jonesy watched Pitch's reactions, from his surprise at being greeted so warmly, to the bold compliments her crew was making about his physique. He seemed a bit stun and unsure of how he should react. Instead of looking anyone in the eyes, he kept his gaze focused either on his feet or on a part of the ship. She chuckled, it was rather endearing to see the Boogeyman so befuddled and out of his element.

"Wait, you know the Sandman?" He asked, finally able to get a handle on the situation now that he had something familiar to focus on. "He's been here?"

"Aye, met the little man five years ago after Manny made me Davy Jones. We meet on occasion. He makes his nightly rounds on me ship and I get t' enjoy the company o' a friend." She answered, making a few of the women who'd wanted to answer Pitch pout in disappointment. "He's a good listener, as well as a mighty fine sparrin' partner." Now that little tidbit made Pitch's eyebrow-less ridges rise up slightly.

Jonesy turned to her crew, rolling her eyes as she saw the girls staring avidly at Pitch. The few that had managed to cling to him didn't seem ready to let him go anytime soon and the others looked on jealously, waiting for a chance to slip in and steal their spots. She sighed and shared a look with Undine. Separating Pitch from the crew so soon would not make them very happy with her. Still, she wanted her shipmates to show at least a little decorum.

"Alright me hearties, let the man go. Ye be needin' t' get t' work anyhow. Sunrise be due in an hour." Jonesy said and her crew instantly protested. "Belay that!" She shouted angrily, making the entire ship fall silent. Even the Wind stopped pushing the sails, leaving an eerie silence in her wake. The crew stared at her silently. Their Captain had only raised her voice at them once before and it wasn't an experience they wanted to repeat. "Now I gave ya an order and yer to follow it without complaint, savvy?"

"Aye aye, Captain." The crew of the Flying Dutchman chorused, sounding professional for the first time all night. They all still managed to say their flirty goodbyes to Pitch, some even reaching out to touch the man before leaving, and promptly jumped overboard.

Pitch looked over the railing, eyes widening as he saw that the crew of alluring women was actually a crew of Mermaids. He recalled the way the material of their clothes had gleamed in the moonlight and realized it was because they hadn't been made of any sort of material at all, they were scales. Stunned by the revelation, Pitch could only stare as Bubbles waved to him one last time, flipping her dark pink colored tail once before joining the others underwater.

"Bet ya didn't see that one comin'." Jonesy said as she smirked at the speechless Nightmare King.

Pitch instantly regained his composure and straightened himself out as he placed his hands behind his back, looking uninterested as the Mermaids disappeared from sight. He handled it a lot better than she had. Jonesy had gawked at them for a good twenty minutes the first time she'd seen her crew take on their real forms. Sandy hadn't even blinked, he'd just stood there, smiling as the crew of Mermaids cooed over his extreme cuteness. She knew they would find him irresistible.

"Thar somethin' ye wanted t' say Undine?" She said after a moment, taking in her First Mate's rigid posture.

It was only then that Pitch noticed that the Captain's First Mate had stayed behind. He stepped back quietly. Taking refuge in the shadow made by the mainmast, he watched as the two shipmates interacted.

Undine was by far one of the prettiest women among the crew. Her long dark brown hair had streaks of blonde running through it, making it more real looking than the Captain's light blue tresses. Her scaled legs were a dark green color and her white shirt had long sleeves that were slit from her wrists to her shoulders. The collar was cut a little deep, but the end of the shirt flowed outwardly, covering her stomach completely.

The First Mate wore some jewelry, a few silver bracelets on her wrists and a necklace with a pink seashell attached at the end. Unlike the rest of her crewmates, Undine did not decorate her hair with seashells, but instead she braided it, tying it back with a simple dark green ribbon. Out of the crew, Pitch felt that Undine seemed to be the only one capable of being serious, besides the Captain.

"Permission to speak freely, Captain?" The first mate asked, making Jonesy smile warmly.

"Always, my friend." The woman responded, dropping her pirate brogue for a moment.

"I don't think you should be left alone with him, Capt'n." The Mermaid said, making Pitch smirk a little. At least one of the foolish females had realized that he wasn't one of the good sorts.

"Aye, he does seem like the shifty type, don't he?" The Captain agreed easily with a small smile on her face. "Don't ye worry Undine, if Mister Black were t' try anythin' untoward, he'd a done it already." She continued before patting her First Mate on the shoulder. "Now get goin', thar should be a few men out on their fishin' boats by now."

"Aye, Captain." Undine sighed before turning back to glare at Pitch one more time. He gave her an unimpressed look and she dived into the sea, the water instantly changing her scaled legs into a tail with a light green flipper replacing her feet.

"Shall we?" Jonesy said as she turned back to Pitch and gestured to her cabin. He nodded and followed her into the room, all the while sticking close to the shadows in case he needed to make a quick getaway.

~Dark Waters~

Unsurprisingly, the Captain's quarters proved to be just as pristine as the rest of the ship. Pitch let his eyes roam over the room, taking in the sight and plotting out any escape routes. Fortunately there were plenty of shadows in the cabin. His eyes landed on the globe and he instinctively moved towards it.

It was a simple thing compared to his or North's. It only came up to his elbows and was held in a wooden stand that allowed it to slowly rotate without being disrupted. As he looked over the globe, he spotted the numerous lights of Believers. There were some in the New World, but there were a few on the seas as well.

"Can I get ya a drink?" He heard the woman ask from behind him and Pitch turned to see that she'd already shed her coat and set her hat on the back of a chair. "Afraid all I've got be rum, though." She added afterwards as she set down two glasses and held up a bottle of what he assumed to be the rum.

"A drink would be nice, thank you." The Captain nodded and poured him a glass, looking more tired than she had out on the deck moments ago. Pitch took it, studying the amber colored liquid curiously, before looking back at her. He raised a brow as he saw her down her drink within a few short gulps. She sighed happily and licked her unusually bright pink lips before pouring herself another glass.

"Ah, thar be nothing quite like a shot o' rum t' start the day." The woman said as she leaned against her desk, frowning as she realized had only one chair in her cabin.

"You said earlier that you were the cause of my coming here, care to explain?" He asked as he perused her small collection of books. Most were recordings and findings about the New World, but he spotted a few fictional works such as the _Odyssey_ and _Iliad_.

"I had a nightmare." She answered simply and Pitch furrowed his brow at the unfamiliar word.

"A night-mare? What is that?" He asked and she looked up at him in confusion before understanding suddenly took over her features.

"A nightmare, as they'll be called in the future, be just another word for bad dreams. I'm not certain when the term will come about, but I'm pretty sure it's in the early 1800s." She answered before taking a light sip from her glass. Pitch did the same, grimacing somewhat as the harsh drink burned against the back of his throat.

"Oh, you can see the future then?" He sneered slightly, barely holding back an eye roll at the new spirits' claim of being a seer. Fate was the only one who could see the future, and even then the visions she received were brief and always vague.

"Not all o' it, no." The woman answered and he scoffed. She shrugged, clearly not caring that he didn't believe her.

"Do you have any Believers?" Pitch asked, the sudden shift in subject catching her off guard. She followed his gaze and found it focused on the globe the Moon had likely given her. She sighed before shaking her head, a sudden deep tiredness burrowing itself into her back, making her shoulders slump a little.

"No, me crew does though. You'd be surprised how many young'uns believe in Mermaids, though I suppose we 'ave the sailors t' thank for that." Jonesy said as she took a deeper draft from her glass. Five years and she still didn't have any Believers. She honestly hadn't thought it would bother her as much as it did, she'd never really cared about kids before.

When she'd been alive, Jonesy had rarely been around children all that often. It was odd, she'd never gone out of her way to impress kids, but they'd always sought her out, acting as if she was the greatest thing in the world. At parks or parties, they would flock to her for some reason, each wanting to spend time with her even when she wasn't doing anything interesting. It was actually a little annoying how they'd always managed to latch themselves onto her.

She'd acted like they were a pain when her friends or other adults were nearby, groaning on about how they wouldn't leave her alone. Then, when no one was looking, she'd wink at the kids and chase after them in a game of tag. She had a soft spot for kids, but she hadn't gone out of her way to make them happy. Their adoration came naturally. Now though, there was this incessant desire to be seen by the children, for them to believe in her. Maybe they'd even play pirate with her and join her on grand adventures.

Jonesy was pretty sure that this desire was a side effect from becoming a spirit.

"Thar will always be superstitious men on these waters. I'll 'ave me own Believers, someday." She didn't look at Pitch as she said this, but out the row of windows, her eyes focused on the moonlight that reflected off of the waves.

Pitch hummed in response, his eyes looking more closely at the spirit in front of him whilst she was engrossed with her own thoughts. She was fairly tall for a woman, perhaps around 5'11", but he noticed that her boots also had a bit of height to them, meaning she was most likely 5'8". Her figure was shapely and like the rest of her crew she was stunning, though unlike them, she carried no glamour that continuously tugged on his mind. Her beauty and charm were all her own.

He had no doubt that what she said was true; humans had already made up various tales about the sea. It was very likely that the name Davy Jones would be somewhat known in a decade or two. Pitch briefly wondered if she would be as well-known as the Guardians or as himself one day, but he doubted it. Only so many children would be at sea, her numbers in Believers was already limited.

"This bad dream, was it truly so terrifying?" He asked after a moment, ready to leave, feeling that he'd spent enough of his time in the woman's presence. He'd only come to the ship to harvest her fear, which was now gone. It was still early enough for him to return to the earlier village and reap some fear from the children there.

She nodded, staring at nothing and looking haunted. He felt his interest peak as the fear he sensed from before returned, only to a much lesser degree. It was a deep-seated fear, the kind that turned men into cowards and left children traumatized for years.

"Can't tell ye much about me dream, I barely remember it. I can only say that it filled me with dread." The woman shuddered, clutching her drink tightly and Pitch took a closer look, determining her inner fears.

There were some basics fears on the surface, a phobia of spiders and the fear of being alone. Pitch paused at that, it wasn't an unusual fear. Nobody wanted to be alone, but it still managed to take him by surprise. Finally, he came to the fear that she was currently reliving, the one that had been caused by her bad dream.

It was a great fear, one that came from peril and the very real chance of death. As curious as he was, he didn't dig any further than that. His interest in Davy Jones was already starting to wane and he had Believers and a reputation to salvage.

Pitch set his barely touched drink on the table and nodded at the woman before disappearing into the shadows. Pondering over the amount of fear one little bad dream had created. He was so lost in thought; he didn't even hear the Captain's soft farewell.

"See ya round, Pitch." Jonesy said as she watched the man disappear, his mind seemingly preoccupied with something else. "Don't stay away too long."

~Dark Waters~

Whew, that was harder than I expected. Pitch isn't all that difficult to write, but I was hoping he would have turned out a bit snarkier by the end of this chapter. Oh well, stiff and proper Pitch worked just fine. I liked having him not too sure of himself when he'd been surrounded by Jonesy's crew, it was adorable.

As you can see, Jonesy already has this openness around Pitch. We haven't gotten a broader view on her characteristics yet, but we will in the next couple of chapters. For those who paid close attention, they would have noticed my little shout out to Fate and OC that will appear in the sequel to this story. Yes, I'm already planning a sequel.

~Hexalys~


	3. A Child and Death

I want to thank everyone for taking the time to review!

Okay, I have to put down a warning for this chapter. There is a detailed death in this chapter and mentions of drowning. If this is too much too handle, or triggers painful memories, please forgive me now and just skip the chapter.

That being said, I hope you finding this chapter to your liking and leave a review!

~Dark Waters~

_There's no tragedy in life like the death of a child. Things never get back to the way they were._ ~Dwight D. Eisenhower

Chapter 3: A Child and Death

Jonesy had been unable to touch any child until now.

He was so small, and as she cradled the little boy in her arms, she could feel how thin he was underneath his soaked clothes. He was young, maybe nine at the most, and he was cute. He still had some baby fat on his face, and his short brown hair was curly even though it was wet. There was a small gap in his row of teeth, indicating a recently lost tooth, and a mass of brown freckles covered his face.

She couldn't enjoy holding this child though. She couldn't relish touching a human after seven long years of being invisible to the rest of the world. Instead, it took everything Jonesy had to not cry, to hold back the shuddering sobs that wanted to break free from her throat. She bit down hard on her lip to keep from screaming and she kept her eyes firmly closed to stop the salty tears that burned under her eyelids.

The lad was dead.

She had found him an hour ago adrift at sea; floating on a plank of wood that looked like it had once been part of a poorly made raft. He'd weakly been struggling against the churning water caused by the roaring storm overhead that had shown no signs of stopping.

He'd been unable to see her or her ship and Jonesy had been forced to watch as the child tried to keep his head above water. She'd dove into the sea to swim next to him, shouting words of encouragement, since there was little else she could do to help. Remarkably, he'd seemed to have heard her.

He'd renewed his efforts and had put everything he had into each kick and stroke, pushing back against the ocean, and ignoring the way his body shivered from the cold. She'd steadied the plank of wood when the current threatened to pull him under, and she'd had her body act as a shield against the approaching waves. The Wind had assisted too, battling against the opposing elements and trying to redirect the storm away from the little boy.

It didn't help.

Jonesy had watched, powerless to aid the lad as he'd tried to swim for land that was likely miles away. She had witnessed his futile attempts to stay afloat as he'd fought against the thrashing tide, gasping for air while slowly choking on the seawater. His distressed pleas and cries for someone to save him continued to ring in her ears, breaking her heart in a way that she'd never thought possible.

She had tried to take him into her arms, to keep him above the water as his strength finally gave out. But her hands had only gone through him, making her scream in frustration, pain and horror.

Every time when someone had passed through Jack or Pitch or Bunny in the movie, they had seemed to be in so much pain and now Jonesy knew why. It felt like she'd been scorched, as if her hands had just suffered first degree burns. The sensation ended quickly, leaving behind a numbness that made her skin feel dry and too tight. She had stared at her hands as the lad sank deeper, gritting her teeth against the pain of being insubstantial.

In the end, she hadn't been able to stop the raging sea from taking the lad's life.

Desperate, she had tried to pull him out of the water again and had feared for a moment that her hands would once more go straight through him. It turned out she needn't have worried. Jonesy had been able to grab the boy because his body essentially became little more than the piece of wood he'd been drifting on. When she had pulled him close, she'd felt the brutal cold that had clung to his skin. She hadn't realized the water had been so frigid.

The cooler temperatures had never bothered her. Even the Arctic Ocean, which could reach 28°F before freezing over, barely affected her.

As soon as they were on deck, Jonesy had laid the boy down to perform CPR. After fifteen useless minutes, she'd finally stopped, breathing harshly as she stared down at the unresponsive child. She'd brought him close to her, rocking back and forth and muttering apologies that he could no longer hear.

Jonesy opened her eyes after what felt like ages and stared at the little boy's face, wondering what color his eyes were, but was too petrified to touch him for fear that he might break. It was stupid, she knew nothing worse could happen to him now, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was holding something fragile, like a porcelain doll.

Her gaze landed on the sky, eyes instinctively seeking out Manny, only to sigh hollowly. It was daytime, Manny wouldn't be out for hours still. The dark clouds above acted as the only testament to the storm that had just passed. It was simply drizzling now, as if the heavens themselves were crying for the little boy in her arms.

A small voice in the back of Jonesy's head kept insisting that the child would have lived if the Moon had been out. Surely Manny would have told her Mermaids about him, they would have been able to save the child. He wouldn't have sent for her though, he would have known better. She was unseen, not Believed in; she'd had no chance in saving the lad.

She was useless.

"I didn't expect to see another spirit here." Someone said from behind her and she turned to see, what Jonesy could only describe as the Grim Reaper, standing on the deck of the Flying Dutchman. "Ah, there's Nathaniel, I'd wondered why he wasn't in the water when I looked for him."

"Is that his name? Nathaniel?" She asked numbly before her gaze went back to the lad. "I like that; it sounds like a strong name. His friends probably called him Nathan though; Nathaniel be far too long a name t' use all the time." The being behind her didn't say anything and it was quiet for a moment. "I take it yer the Grim Reaper?"

"I see my attire was a… dead giveaway." He joked and Jonesy gave him a blank look. He coughed lightly, obviously realizing that she wasn't in the mood for any sort of humor, and approached her cautiously. "I am the Grim Reaper, it's my duty to ferry lost souls."

"Yer goin' t' take Nathaniel t' heaven now." She said firmly, not even allowing the thoughts of such an innocent child going somewhere else to enter her mind.

"Humans and their religions." He gave a huff. "No one goes to heaven, because there is no heaven. Their souls are simply reborn. I free souls from their bodies and send them to a waiting area if you will; they are then sorted by the Man in the Moon into their next lives." The Grim Reaper explained and Jonesy nodded, familiar with the belief of reincarnation.

He walked forwards and touched the butt of his scythe against Nathan's chest, gently tapping the area over his heart. A bright white orb rose up and circled around Jonesy once before shooting up towards the sky. The dark clouds parted for a second and she saw the Moon hanging in the distance, with Nathan's little soul heading in that direction.

And the pain that had taken up refuge in her chest lessened slightly.

Jonesy slowly stood and picked up her hat that she'd tossed aside earlier before joining Nathan in the water. She glanced at the Grim Reaper and found him staring at her, or at least she thought he was staring. She couldn't really tell since his hood completely covered his face in shadows. He looked like the stereotypes depicted him as; a long black cloak, a menacing scythe. She took a closer look and found that his hands had no skin, they were skeletal.

"We haven't been properly introduced yet. My name is Grimm Bones, more commonly known as Death or the Grim Reaper among the humans." He said and Jonesy managed a weak smile, finding it ironic that the personification of Death seemed to be so lively.

"Captain Davy Jones, at yer service Mister Bones." She took off her hat and gave a bow, smiling a little wider as she heard the other spirit chuckle. "No offense matey, but I always thought that Death would be a bit more… grim." She couldn't see it, but Jonesy was pretty sure that Grimm was full out smiling at her now.

"Oh, I think I like you." He responded, making her smirk. "I don't remember you though." And that rapidly wiped away the grin from her face, as a minor feeling of apprehension took root in her mind. "You see, since I take care of every soul, I'm there to witness the birth of every Legend. And I definitely don't remember you."

"Aye, I wasn't exactly made in the traditional sense." Jonesy said, looking away from Death, only for her seafoam green eyes to land on Nathan's body. A deadening ache returned, making her heart skip a beat and her chest tightened painfully. She would bring the lad to shore, somewhere near civilization so that he could get a proper burial. She sighed; feeling very tired all of a sudden.

"Well that answer just makes me even more curious, but I can see that now isn't the best time. I'll come back later." Grimm said as he stepped into the shadows. "Take care, Captain." And then he disappeared, much like Pitch had two years ago.

Jonesy exhaled heavily, the sound coming out hoarse and much too close to being a sob. The Wind brushed the side of her face, comforting her a little with its' warm front. And she suddenly wished that this warmth had been the last thing Nathan had felt, not the iciness of the sea or the numbness that followed. She bent down and picked up the lad's body, holding him close, but unable to let her eyes drift down to the child that she'd failed.

"Land, Wind, bring us t' port."

~Dark Waters~

Grimm did return as promised, it was three days later and his arrival had taken the crew by surprise. Even though Grimm was clearly a man, the Mermaids avoided him like he was the plague itself. It was odd, but Jonesy didn't stop her shipmates as they fled into the sea. Only Undine had managed to stay long enough to give him a proper greeting. Like with Pitch, she brought him into her cabin and offered a drink of rum, which he turned down.

Jonesy had used those three days to think about what she'd plan to say to Grimm. She'd had this entire story mapped out in her head, a being perhaps born from Manny's own powers. A new spirit created not from the dead, but from the seas itself. But when she'd looked up at him and saw his dark figure standing so serenely in her quarters, she had found herself unable to lie to him.

So she told him everything, about who she used to be and where she was really from. He silently and attentively listened to every word she said, never interrupting her. When she'd finished, she felt an unknown pressure in her chest lighten a little. Jonesy was taken by surprise; it looked as if talking about ones problems with someone else really did help. She hadn't even realized that keeping her past a secret had taken so much out of her until that moment.

Grimm, thank the spirits, had taken it all in stride, not focusing on how she was different or an outsider, but instead explained how things worked in this world. He told her of the first generation of Legends, of Mother Nature, himself, and Father Time. He'd told her about the other spirits she didn't know about. Like Fate, Cupid, and the April Fool. It was amazing how many others there were. He'd even told her a little bit about the Demons, who were all basically extinct now thanks to the Guardians.

After that, Grimm began to tell her stories of the other Legends and of the funny things he'd seen since his existence. Jonesy had honestly never met anyone like him in her past life. He had a dry sense of humor and way too many groan inducing puns, but she found him to be great company. As he left to get back to work, she told him to come back whenever he liked. Her invitation seemed to startle him, but Grimm quickly agreed and thanked her before leaving.

She felt sorry for him; she couldn't imagine Death having many friends, if any.

Now, hours later, she stood alone at the helm of the Flying Dutchman, the vessel flying over what would one day become the United States of America. There was no Moon tonight, and for that she was grateful. She couldn't bear to face Manny after what happened to Nathan, she'd avoided him for the last few days, too afraid of what his reaction towards her might be.

The possibilities of "what if" kept playing over and over again in her exhausted mind. What if Manny was disappointed in her? Well, she really couldn't blame him there. Jonesy was disappointed in herself, but there was more to it, a bitter self-hatred had taken shape in her heart. And a dark thought kept bouncing around in her head, giving her mind no peace. '_Surely, any of the other spirits could have saved Nathan._'

She felt like a failure, and it wasn't a feeling that she was familiar with.

She'd always lived a rather simple life. There were no real expectations from her that were beyond the norm of what others had experienced. Be good, try your best, get good grades, be responsible, get a job, become a contributing adult to society. Jonesy had always managed to succeed, even if the results were less than stellar, she could still hold her head high and honestly say that she'd accomplished something.

That she'd done good.

Yet here, as Davy Jones, she was obviously a disappointment, a mistake. The first child she'd met in her seven years and she couldn't even save him. It was pathetic. She definitely wasn't what Manny had in mind when he'd charged her with keeping the children safe.

As if reading her thoughts, light broke through the clouds and she stumbled back into the shadows as soon as she felt Manny's warm presence. From the shade, the light grew stronger, and Jonesy knew that he was trying to coax her back into the open, but she didn't move. The thread of fear in the back of her mind grew and spread like a spider's web, entangling any other thoughts and keeping her frozen in place.

Jonesy wasn't sure how long she waited until Manny's presence left her ship, she just knew that it had been long enough to make her back feel stiff. She slumped against the side of the Flying Dutchman, its' gentle rocking calming her down a little, the Wind ruffling at her hair playfully.

She suddenly wished for company, for Undine and her crew, for Grimm who now knew more about her than anyone else. She wanted a distraction and acceptance; the crew would cheer her up. Grimm would understand. But even then, the thought of her friends filled Jonesy with a hollow feeling.

She wanted something more.

Her thoughts unexpectedly turned to her family. She longed for the warmth they provided, for the safety their hugs had given her. She hadn't thought about her mother and father in years, even before she'd become a spirit. At eighteen she'd packed her bags and moved to the city, using the inheritance from her grandmother to pay for a flat in New York.

There'd been so much bad blood between her and her parents. They were realistic people, a father who worked in retailing and a mother for a nurse. Neither had approved of their only daughter's dream of becoming an artist. Jonesy had left to prove them wrong. If only she could say that she'd done so.

While she'd managed to get a job soon after arriving in New York, she couldn't say she was fortunate in selling her artwork. Eventually she'd had to take a second job to pay for her schooling, and her own personal projects had been pushed aside as she struggled to make ends meet.

At twenty-six and with a Bachelor's Degree, Jonesy's life had finally started to look up. And then… well she wasn't sure what happened next. She wasn't sure how she died or how she came to be in the Guardians' Universe, she only knew that her dreams were no longer a possibility.

A sudden stream of golden sand appeared by her, and she let out a bitter chuckle, finding it ironic that Sandy would show up after she'd realized such a horrible fact. Sandy hovered nearby on a cloud of Dream Sand, creating a parrot on his shoulder along with his default pirate hat. The ridiculously large feather on his cap wilted as he caught sight of the look on her face.

"Huh, I'm certainly very popular tonight." She muttered to herself, forcing a smile on her face that Sandy wasn't buying for a second. She peaked over the railing and saw that it was in fact dawn. That explained why Manny had left then. A question mark appeared above his head and Jonesy sighed. "It be nothin' Sandy; the Grim Reaper just paid me a little visit earlier, is all."

Sand exploded over his head, the images shifting from an exclamation mark to drawn out scenes moving so quickly that she couldn't even begin to guess what he was asking. Despite herself Jonesy chuckled, feeling a little warmer on the inside by witnessing Sandy's obvious concern for her wellbeing. She counted herself lucky that he considered her to be such a dear friend.

Eventually he'd worn himself out, panting silently as he looked at her with wide eyes. The open display of worry on his face jerked at her heart and she suddenly found it hard to swallow. She shook her head and moved past him to grab the steering wheel, trying to ground herself, to keep her mind from wandering into bad memories. She didn't want to talk about it. She couldn't talk about Nathan.

Her earlier fear that had fled when she'd remembered her parents returned, and she gripped the steering pegs so hard, she felt her hands cramp. What would Sandy think of her if he found out she'd been unable to save Nathaniel? She couldn't bear the thought of disappointing him, to see such emotions reflecting off of his round face that could be so painfully expressive.

Jonesy felt a yanking on the hem of her shirt and she thought it was the Wind at first, but the pulling became fiercer and even more insistent. She looked down and saw Sandy looking up at her; he'd abandoned his cloud of Dream Sand to stand beside her. He was so short; he couldn't be much taller than three feet. Really, it was absurd at how small Sandy was… small like Nathan had been.

And then suddenly, standing there with those little hands still tugging on her shirt, Jonesy felt something inside her snap.

"Thar was a lad adrift at sea and I couldn't touch'em Sandy. I couldn't–" Something caught the words in her throat, leaving her unable to continue, to explain why she hadn't been able to save one little boy. She closed her eyes and stomped her foot on the deck, as if she were physically trying to shove back the roiling emotions that were pushing hard against the dam.

She felt a small hand on her shoulder and she looked over to see Sandy's sad, but understanding expression. It was those kind and warm golden eyes that finally undid her. She reached for him, his small arms already spread as far as they could go, inviting her to grieve and offering support. She collapsed to her knees, bringing Sandy down with her, whispering apologies to Nathan as he squeezed her tightly.

She broke down for the first time in years and sobbed as Sandy comforted her.

~Dark Waters~

"_Please help me, someone, anyone!" Nathan cried out before spluttering as a brutal wave crashed into his face. He choked and coughed on the briny water, tears leaking down his face as he frantically tried to stay above the water. "HELP!"_

"_I'm tryin' Nathan. Spirits help me lad, I'm tryin'." Jonesy muttered back, her hands stinging from how many times she'd tried to grab the boy, only to end up passing through him. She rubbed at them, hoping to make the pain go away, but it continued to linger. As his head disappeared under the tide again, she felt something inside her break._ "_Manny, I can't save him!" _

_She knew it. There was nothing she could do for the lad at this point, no attempt that would bring him to safety. And yet, this horror of simply watching ate at her insides, leaving her raw and in pain that was worse than when she phased through Nathan. _

_Where was her crew, they could help. Where was Sandy or any of the Guardians, they could help him. Hell, even Pitch could probably save this kid! So why was she the only one there to save Nathan, to witness this horrible thing that she couldn't change? He couldn't see her; he couldn't touch her. The lad didn't believe in Davy Jones, nobody did, she was useless!_

_Manny's warm light suddenly shown down on them and she smiled, relieved because Manny would not let anything bad happen to Nathan. But then the light suddenly burned, scorching her skin, and she felt her chest ache in response. Jonesy looked down in shock and saw a little white orb fly out of her chest, bobbing in front of her face only once before shooting up towards Manny._

_She desperately reached out for it, knowing that it was vital and that it had once belonged to her. She looked down at herself, finding her clothes had changed into a familiar uniform and that her body had returned to the way it was before she became Davy Jones. _

_A large wave abruptly pushed her under and she shot back up, fear gipping at her heart as she desperately tried to stay above the cold water whose undertow was suddenly too strong for her to handle. There was someone screaming her name in the distance, but she could hardly hear it over the rushing water and the deafening wind. She was pulled under again, and she panicked, unsure of which way was up or down. She pushed herself in a random direction, praying she was right, and gasped greedily as she broke the surface. _

"_Manny, help me! I can't–" She was cut off as she felt something tug on her body; it was if the water had grown hands and was trying to drag her down to its' depths, to drown her like it had Nathan. "Manny, please!"_

"_**You failed; you don't deserve to be Davy Jones.**__" He responded and Jonesy tried to protest, to explain how hard she'd tried to save Nathan. All she managed to do was inhale more water, gagging as her lungs burned from the lack of air. "__**You're not worthy, you were a mistake.**__"_

_She shook her head, pleading for another chance. But Manny did nothing to help and the water pulled her under and she knew she wasn't coming back up this time._

Jonesy awoke with a muffled cry, trying as best as she could to right herself and take in as much air as possible. She could still feel it, the terrible sensation of water sliding down her throat and filling her lungs. Her fear continued to grow to unbearable levels, because she was drowning, and dying, and Manny took it back–

"Oh my, that dream really rattled you, didn't it?" Her head shot up, breaths wild and frantic, only to see a dark figure standing a few feet away from her. She reared back, grabbing her nearby cutlass and swung out at the darkness.

Pitch barely avoided being hit, his grey-gold eyes widening as he saw the woman's form tremble on her bed, her breaths rapidly coming in and out, as if she were hyperventilating. He'd sensed her fear from his Dark Cave only moments ago and had traveled to her ship through the shadows. He'd made sure to land directly in her cabin this time, completely avoiding the possibility of running into the crew of handsy Mermaids.

He'd arrived to see the woman tossing in her bed. There'd been no Dream Sand over her head, for surely if there was, she would not have had a bad dream to begin with. The fear that she'd projected had made him silently groan in pleasure. The decline in his Believers fell by the handfuls every day; he could not see every child in one night to keep their Beliefs in him alive. He did not have a holiday to instill credence like North, nor could he visit hundreds of children every night like Sandy could through dreams.

His own limited abilities were working against him and Pitch knew that he had to do something different if he was going to keep up with the Guardians. It did not help the situation that he now had to be discreet to avoid detection from both Sandy and Tooth's irksome Fairies. Those wretched things seemed to be multiplying every hour, he was sure of it, and he was much too weak to risk running into the Guardians again.

It was because of this overwhelming loss of fear and this new weakness that drove him to see Davy Jones.

The woman's fear, her abundant horror and dread, was like a succulent meal to him. A delicacy whose value increased with time, a fine wine that he was quickly growing addicted to. Pitch was beginning to find that he could not resist the temptation, not that there was much to deterrent him from taking advantage of her fear. The only Guardian she'd been in contact with was Sandy and he was cautious enough to check from the shadows to make sure that the Sandman was nowhere in sight.

He watched as the woman's glassy eyes cleared, a look of understanding dawning on her face as she finally shook off the effects of her bad dream. She took a deep breath, the fear dwindling now that she had calmed herself down, and gave him a weak grin that looked more like a grimace.

"Uh, sorry about that Pitch, didn't mean t' take a swipe at ye." She offered, before sliding a hand down her face, pausing to rub at her tired eyes. She looked as if she hadn't slept in days, which was odd since most spirits he knew did not require sleep unless they'd been gravely wounded and needed to recover their strength.

Her words however, broke through to Pitch after a moment and he simply blinked in response. That was not the usual reaction he got when someone found him in their bedroom. There was usually a lot more screaming, but then again, this was his first time being in the bedchamber of another spirit. Still, he was absolutely certain she was not supposed to reply with an apology. There was something truly peculiar about this woman.

"Another night-mare, my dear Captain?" He mocked while looking down at his nails, making sure he could still see her expressions from the corner of his eyes. Her face fell for a second, her seafoam green eyes landing on the floor, before she huffed and stood up. He moved back into the shadows ever so slightly, ready to leave should things elevate, but she merely walked past him and over to her desk where she pulled out another bottle and two glasses.

"I think we've done this before, haven't we. Is this not the part where you blather on about how awful things are for you?" She either didn't hear him or had simply decided to ignore the derision in his tone. Pitch scoffed, irritated that she refused to show any reaction to his insults.

The Captain merely poured the amber colored liquid into the two glasses and sat at a table that certainly hadn't been in her cabin two years ago. She pointed to the extra chair, the second glass sitting in front of it, and raised a delicate eyebrow. Pitch bit back a growl; he was starting to hate this woman.

"Have any Believers yet?" He asked idly as he sat down, not missing the way his jeer had hit its' mark. Her posture tensed immediately and she briefly closed her eyes, exhaling a sharp sigh that rang throughout the quiet cabin. He inwardly smirked, taking the reaction as an undesirable admission. He turned his attention away from her, willing to let his insult settle in her mind for a bit, and took a closer look at her new furnishings.

The chair, and he was hesitant to call it that, was surprising very comfortable. It seemed more like a throne in his opinion; the tall dark wooden frame was decorated with exquisite carvings of seashells. The fabric of the seat was soft like velvet, but dyed a dark grey color that he rather liked. The Captain's chair was almost exactly the same with one exception; the fabric was a dark blue instead. The color suited her though.

The table was solely unremarkable at first glance; there were scratches and chips on the surface, ruining the dark finish. But as he continued his examinations, Pitch saw the figures of ships and waves fashioned along the tables' border and up the main stand. The carvings were so detailed that he had no doubt that a man had spent most of his life working on this table, acting as a tribute to his superior skill and talent.

"Unfortunately, no, I can't say that I do." The Captain said, needlessly answering his rhetorical question and breaking Pitch out of his observations. "How 'bout yerself, Mister Black? I hear tell that ye've seen better days." She continued and he felt his eyes narrow at her cheekiness. He moved to lash out, an acidic comment resting on the tip of his tongue, but he paused instead and reexamined her words.

They'd been offensive, purposefully said to get a rise out of him. An exact opposite to how she'd approached him two years ago, when she'd been nothing but inviting and courteous. Her tone was different too; there was a sharpness to it that hadn't existed last time. He took in the way she held herself, all tense and rigid, her eyes focused on the glass in front of her which had remained untouched.

She was on her guard. He smiled at that revelation, enjoying the way she stiffened and how her left hand grasped the arm of her chair. Her sudden defensiveness was new, but not unwelcomed. It seemed that others, whoever they may be, had finally informed her not to take the Boogeyman lightly.

"I am doing quite well, thank you. The Guardians think they've weakened me, but..." His eyes gleamed as he flashed her a pointed smile. "The oceans can be such a terrifying force after all, and with every shipwreck and life lost at sea, the fears of these dark waters grow with every new dawn." He smirked into his drink, feeling as if he'd finally won something after these past seventeen years of destitute. The Captain sent him a dark glare, one that just made him feel all the more gratified.

But then woman's glare weakened after a moment and her eyes drifted downward.

Abruptly, a wretched weariness seemed to consume the Captain's persona, tearing down an invisible wall that he hadn't even realized existed, exposing her true feelings. There was a pain in her eyes, so brittle and piercing that Pitch felt his good mood instantly fade. She looked back up at him helplessly, a vile feebleness dominating her once proud nature.

His mild barb had struck deeper than he'd intended, digging into her strong front and crippling it within seconds.

Pitch found his mouth suddenly uncomfortably dry and he sipped at his drink, hoping to cure the unsettling pit that had formed near his stomach. He reached into her mind to see the cause, drawing back instantly as he felt despair mangled in deeply with her fear. He'd still seen some images though, flashes of her dream and memories. He'd felt her fear towards the Man in the Moon's possible disappointment.

And saw a child drowned at sea.

Despite what others might believe, he did not gain any joy from seeing children suffer, and he most certainly did not relish in their deaths. True, he didn't dote on the young ones like the Guardians did, or even enjoy a child's happiness. But that was simply because if they were happy, then they weren't being afraid of him.

Pitch knew his power, his entire existence, depended on the children and their Belief. In a obscured sense, he saw them as a part of who he was, so why would he take any delight in losing those small bits of himself?

"I can't do this Pitch, not today." He stared at her for a moment, a small amount of pity unexpectedly rising within him at her soft admission.

She looked so broken at that moment and he knew he could take advantage of her then. He could figuratively dig at her bleeding wounds; pour salt in them with whispers of hatred and acrimony. He could tell her that her fears were true, his finely placed lies acting as a terrible poison that would slowly drain her of any loyalty and goodness. He could turn her against the Man in the Moon, against Sandy and the Guardians; he could make her his pawn.

But instead Pitch simply nodded, leaving the woman to drink away her problems.

~Dark Waters~

Well, that was more than a little sad. I felt it best to have something tragic at the beginning, if only to show the range of emotions that Jonesy can go through and how she shows them. It was really hard writing out her reactions, I tried to keep Jonesy looking strong, without making her seem frigid or too weepy. But you have to remember, these guys have been around for centuries. Chances are they've seen some pretty messed up stuff, kids dying seemed like a very real possibility to me. That's not even mentioning the child abuse, illnesses, and other problems they could have witnessed, but been unable to do anything about it.

On a side note, Grimm was featured here, who is an OC. I really couldn't resist adding him; I also gave a shout out to Fate, Cupid and the April Fool, You don't have to worry about overwhelming OCs if you're not a fan. Their scenes, if any at all, will be far and few in-between. However, they will have bigger roles in the sequel, so you can either look forward to that or not.

~Hexalys~


	4. A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

I want to thank everyone for taking the time to review!

First off, I just want to thank you guys who actually look forward to this story's updates. It's currently my least popular story, but your supportive reviews make this story just as important as my other works. I really like this story, mainly because it's so much fun to write, it's definitely in my top 3 favorites right now.

That said, I still going to shamelessly beg and plead for more reviews. So please review, please… *_gives you irresistible puppy-dog eyes_*

~Dark Waters~

"_People trust their eyes above all else – but most people see what they wish to see, or what they believe they should see; not what is really there._" ~Zoë Marriott

Chapter 4: A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

Jonesy was in Egypt, more specifically, she was currently sailing down the Nile. She'd entered the famous river from the Mediterranean Sea, deciding to have a change of scenery. It wasn't like she didn't love her wide open oceans; Jonesy had always loved the sea. It was just that today, she felt like soaking in the sun and seeing the sights.

It had been about two weeks since she saw Pitch, and even longer since she'd last been in Manny's presence. She knew at this point, after having a while to think about things, that there was no way that Manny was upset with her, but Jonesy just couldn't seem to shake her fears. She hadn't slept since her last confrontation with Pitch, not wanting to have any more nightmares.

Jonesy could go a few days without sleep just fine, but two weeks was pushing it.

The heat was in the high nineties, so she had abandoned her vest, boots, hat, and jewelry. She'd managed to get her hair up, set in a messy bun, and her white shirt was open a little more than normal, but then again, Jonesy really didn't have to worry about modesty. Being invisible had its perks sometimes.

She'd been lying out on the deck, wishing she had a hammock, when something had caught her attention. It was a woman, the most beautiful woman Jonesy had ever seen and that was saying something considering her crew seemed to be consisted of the most stunning women ever created by the Moon.

She had golden brown hair that seemed to shine different shades in the sunlight. There was a golden band resting on her head, almost looking like a tiara, decorated with water lilies. Her skin was a soft cream color, which was an unusual skin tone in this part of the world. Jonesy wasn't close enough to see the woman's face very clearly, so she could only guess the woman's eye color.

She wore a simple white dress that clung to her shapely body, thin cords of gold wrapped around her slim waist in a haphazard manner that only made her simple clothes look all the more elegant. The dress went a little past her knees, the white fabric billowing around her legs softy. Another odd thing was that the woman wasn't wearing any shoes.

She stood on the bank of the river near a small child, who looked as if they'd only just learned how to walk, if the unsteady steps and tiny stature was anything to go by. The child had black hair that barely reached their shoulders and their skin had a healthy tan. A group of people were gathered further back, taking shelter under the palm trees, not noticing that two members of their group had strayed away by a good distance.

Jonesy, for some reason, watched the scene with an unsettling feeling in her stomach. She couldn't explain where this sense of something amiss had come from, there was really nothing all that suspicious with the woman. But there was a niggling in the back of her mind, one that was too powerful for her to brush aside as paranoia.

There was something terribly wrong.

The woman stepped into the water, her front facing the child as she made hand motions for the young one to come to her. As the child toddled closer, Jonesy the feeling of wrongness intensified, urging her to keep the child away from the woman. It was too overwhelming for her to fight. She dove into the river without a second thought and quickly swam towards the two, frantically thinking about what she would do once she reached them. It's not like she could carry the toddler away to safety.

Just when Jonesy was within ten feet of the woman, the child reached the edge of the riverbank, arms reaching outwards. A breathtaking sense of horror gripped her throat as she saw the water rise up unnaturally, twisting and curling like jagged fingers, wrapping itself around the kid's ankles. The child's small and pudgy face was just beginning to show signs of fear when Jonesy reacted.

"Wind, knock'em back!" She shouted and the Wind responded instantly.

A powerful gale pushed into the child, lifting them up and away from the water's grasp. They landed several feet away in the sand, crying almost immediately and attracting the attention of the adults. A woman, who looked a lot like the child, ran forwards pulling them into a soft embrace, muttering soothing words as they headed back towards the others. Not even sparing Jonesy, or the beautiful woman for that matter, a single glance.

"Well now, that wasn't very nice." The woman said as she turned around, her beautiful face shifting into an ugly sneer and Jonesy saw that her eyes were black. "You just cost me my dinner." The Captain felt her stomach curl in disgust and fear towards what this woman truly was. She saw no lie in the woman's claim, her malevolent face was proof enough, she'd been planning to eat the child.

"Who are ye, wench?" Jonesy asked, glaring darkly at the woman as she placed a hand on the hilt of her cutlass. "Speak quickly before I gut ye like fish."

"Jenny Greenteeth." The woman said, her face morphing into something serene looking. "And since you lost my meal, you'll just have to serve as a replacement." She smiled, but her teeth were jagged and pointed, reminding Jonesy of a shark. As if she'd given a silent command, the water suddenly rose up around Jonesy, wrapping itself around her and pulling her under.

Her nightmare came back to her, and she struggled valiantly, slashing at whatever invisible hooks that pulled her in deeper. After a moment though, she calmed herself down and breathed. Manny had not taken away her abilities; she was as much at home in the water as she was on land.

"Oh, well this won't do." Jonesy turned and spotted Jenny Greenteeth floating a few feet away from her, sitting on nothing and somehow managing to hold still, only her hair and the ends of her dress seemed to move with the rivers current. "I was hoping to simply drown you and be done with it." At those words, something cold and icy gripped at the Captain's insides.

"Ye were going t' down that child?" The Captain demanded, her furious eyes locking onto Greenteeth's smirk.

"That's how I kill all my meals." The smug look on the woman's face disappeared as she barely dodged Jonesy's sword. Greenteeth gave a wordless snarl, but reared back slightly at the look Jonesy was giving. It was deadly, fierce, but controlled, if only just.

A living analogy that reminded Greenteeth of a new saying that she'd recently heard among the humans, 'the calm before the storm' she believed.

"The waters be mine, Greenteeth. I will not have ye force them t' take another life evar again." The Captain growled angrily, a wave of rage consuming her in a way that she'd never experienced before. It wasn't until that moment that Jonesy realized what it meant to be truly furious.

Her thoughts turned to Nathan and to what Pitch had said, "_The oceans can be such a terrifying force after all, and with every shipwreck and life lost at sea, the fears of these dark waters grow with every new dawn."_ As much as she loved the sea, Jonesy knew how dangerous it could be, that's why Manny had made her. But she didn't want people to fear the oceans, or to fear her.

And yet Greenteeth was using water, _her water_, to kill children? It was unacceptable.

Jonesy had never considered herself a dark person, not that she ever viewed herself as an angel either. She'd always been an average person morally. She'd helped others from time to time and had acted selfishly at other points. She'd stolen before, but donated to charity as well. She'd been mean more than a few tmes, but forgiving and kind when it counted most.

Now though, she knew, she had to kill this other being. Jenny Greenteeth was a murderer, she ate children! There was no person in the world who would say she deserved anything other than death. Still, Jonesy did not like the idea of killing. She didn't want to kill anyone.

"_You're waters?!_ I have ruled the ponds, rivers, and lakes for centuries! The water listens to my commands, they belong to me!" Greenteeth screeched, her nails transforming into thick, long, black claws. "Who do you think you are?"

"I be Davy Jones, Captain o' the Flyin' Dutchman, and Guardian o' the seas! Chosen by the Man in the Moon to protect all who pass through me oceans." She shouted, blocking Greenteeth's claws with her sword. "And what be rivers, but water that has simple not yet reached the sea?" She growled and Greenteeth hissed wordlessly in retaliation, her face morphing into something monstrous looking for a split second.

"I will kill you!" Greenteeth screamed. "I will break you open and devour your very bones!" Jonesy raised up her sword to block as Greenteeth lashed out at her, but the water suddenly felt too thick and her arms wouldn't move. She grunted in pain as she felt claws catch into her side, continuing across the length of her stomach in an upwards arch.

The force of the blow flung her backwards and to the surface, she swam upwards and spotted the Flying Dutchman not even a yard away, sailing towards her on its' own. She felt the Wind pushed her forwards, helping her move through the resisting water and towards her ship. She gritted her teeth in pain as the motion made her cuts sting, but bared with it just the same. She didn't need to look behind her to know Greenteeth was giving chase.

A rope swung down from the ship and she grabbed it. Jonesy didn't know if she'd be able to climb, but the Wind was able to solve that problem. It swung her around the stern of the ship and she felt the rope tug her upwards, as if the Flying Dutchman itself was reeling her in. She ended up sprawled across the lower deck, her breaths heavy from the strain of her wounds.

She still managed to drag herself onto her feet, taking unsteady steps, and looked over the starboard bow. She saw Greenteeth glaring up at her as the ship took to the air, leaving the wretched woman unable to climb aboard.

"I will get you, Davy Jones!" The woman screeched and Jonesy felt herself smirk slightly.

"That's Captain, ya scurvy sea-witch." She shouted back. "And I'll be looking forward t' the rematch; I cannot wait t' string ye up like the pile o' bilge that ya are!" Whatever replies Greenteeth had made after that were lost on Jonesy, who had already collapsed against the railing, slowly sliding towards the deck as her eyesight began to fade." Undine, take me to Undine."

She wasn't exactly sure whom she was talking to, the Wind or the ship, but she trusted both of them to get her to her first mate.

~Dark Waters~

Pitch was not entirely surprised to feel the fear of the Captain again so soon after his last visit, but he was surprised by the amount that he'd sensed. This, by far, was the most fearful he'd ever felt from her. He moved through the shadows to her cabin, finding her still in sleep, muttering unintelligible things under her breath. He stayed hidden, drawing in and feasting on the fear that she readily provided.

After some minutes, her mutters turned into frantic shouts.

Pitch watched her, fascinated by how much fear one bad dream caused. He'd never really focused on that aspect of sleep, preferring to wake children in the night, using the darkness to enhance his presence and increase their fear. After all, how could they be afraid of him if they were asleep? If only children had bad dreams like the Captain did…

An idea struck Pitch then, one that was both incredulous and perfectly satisfying. If he could somehow get his hands on Sandy's Dream Sand, would it be possible for him to corrupt it? Could his fear filled touch possess the Sand? He stared down at his hands curiously.

Pitch was fear; none of the Guardians had ever understood that statement. He didn't just create it in children by manipulating his environment, he caused it. A single touch and the heart-gripping emotion would spread through the victim's veins. That shudder that humans felt along their spin, those ghost-like breathes on the very edges of their arms, the phantom sensation of cold that caused goose bumps, it was all him, it was his touch.

Could this ability affect the Dream Sand as well?

A scream penetrated his thoughts; the Captain's dream had reached its pivotal point. The woman shot up into a sitting position, her left hand reaching out for someone who wasn't there. Pitch felt his eyes widen, her shirt was missing, but bandages had been wrapped around her stomach and chest. There were four stains bleeding through the white wrappings, dyeing them a dark red. The Captain's thrashings had obviously aggravated whatever injuries she had even further.

The door to the cabin opened up, revealing the First Mate standing at the entrance, looking haggard but still quite lovely. Pitch gave his head a rough shake, dissipating the irritating allure that the Mermaids seemed to constantly flaunt. The First Mate quickly shut the door, blocking out the moonlight that was unusually bright for a simple half-moon. Pitch delved deeper into the shadows.

It seemed the Man in the Moon was worried over the dear Captain's condition. He felt himself sneer. '_How very touching._' The Boogeyman thought darkly, he hadn't seen the Moon this attached to a spirit since it had created that oaf of a toymaker.

"Capt'n, are you alright? I heard you scream." The Mermaid pointed out needlessly in his opinion, everyone on the coast heard that scream. The Captain merely sighed, absently dragging a hand through her tangled hair, not even bothering to open her eyes.

"Sorry Undine, jus' a nightmare." She answered before hissing in pain, her hands shooting down to wrap themselves around her torso.

"You've reopened your stitches." The First Mate said, moving over towards the desk and coming back with a small wooden box that had a red cross painted on the front. "Lay down." Pitch averted his eyes as the Mermaid undid the Captain's wrappings, but listened attentively as he felt a spike of fear come from the woman.

"Do ye have t'? Can't we just cover'em up with new bandages?" He could practically hear the First Mate shake her head. He moved to a better position so that he could get a look at the Captain's face. "Well, at least get me a bottle o' rum 'fore ye start." The Mermaid did as requested and the Captain took a long swig. "I hate needles." She muttered, giving the hook in her first mate's hands a dark and apprehensive look.

"It's not a needle Capt'n." The Mermaid corrected and the woman scoffed.

"Alright, fine, I hate all sharp pointy things in general then." She grouched, pointedly looking away as the Mermaid began her work, not knowing that she was looking in his direction. "It don't change the fact that yer basically knitting me flesh back t'gether like a scarf." Pitch smirked, seeing that while the woman truly did hate needles, she was afraid of them too. He was pleased that she had such an easily exploitable fear.

"My, how very dark of you." The Mermaid commented dryly while not looking up from her work. "Now that your coherent, want to tell me how you got these injuries?" The room was silent for a moment before the Captain spoke again.

"I don't know what she was, but I did get a name, Jenny Greenteeth." The First Mate let out a gasp, her twisting quickly to look up at her captain. "Ya know her?" Pitch knew she did, the fear radiating off of the Mermaid said as much.

"Aye, she isn't like us Capt'n. She's a Demon." The Boogeyman felt his own breath catch at that.

"Yeah, she was witch alright–"

"No, you misunderstand me Capt'n. She's an actual Demon, the very last one alive I think." It had been a long time since Pitch had heard any mentions of the Demons. They had not been very fond of him. He'd warned the humans of them, told them when to flee, his fear had saved quite a few lives back then. The Guardians had supposedly killed the last one over three hundred years ago, but apparently that was not the case.

"Now that I think about it, Grimm did mention somethin' about Demons earlier, but I hadn't given it much thought at the time…" The Captain trailed off and he absently wondered who Grimm was. "I was on the Nile when I spotted her tryin' t' lure a little one into the water." She paused at this and the Mermaid moved to continue with her stitching. "Wait, if she's a Demon, then why did she look so beautiful?"

"It was a disguise. Her true form is a much uglier version of us. All Demons have at least two skins; they're natural forms and a more human looking one. Her allure is also much more powerful than ours as well. She can enchant any male, mortal or spirit, with just a smile. Back when there'd been more of her kind, the humans called them Sirens." The First Mate answered evenly, not pausing in her work. "Over the centuries, her preferences eventually turned to children."

"I know, I stopped her from getting her next meal." The woman chuckled. "She was pissed."

"Beggin' your pardon, Capt'n?" The Mermaid asked in confusion. Pitch raised an eyebrow at that as well, the Demon had been intoxicated?

"Oh, future expression, I meant she was angry." The Captain explained and her first mate nodded. "She could control the water, Undine." Her tone was firm now, bitter and furious all at once. "_My water._" She growled and the Mermaid nodded again.

"She was born from it Capt'n, all Demons are born from the Earth while Legends like us are children of the Moon. Demons are infinitely more tide to the elements than we are." The First Mate explained as she began to rewrap the wounds with clean bandages. Once she finished, the woman slowly sat up, minding her injuries this time. "Be more careful Capt'n, wounds caused by Demons take much longer to heal than regular injuries."

"Thank ye Undine. Yer dismissed." The Mermaid nodded putting back the supplies before pausing at the door.

"I take it that Greenteeth will not leave you be, after this?" There was a tremor of fear in the question that Pitch picked up on easily.

"Aye." The Captain answered with a smirk.

"Must you sound so eager? Demons are no laughing matter Capt'n." The first mate said tiredly and the woman chuckled, her eyes gleaming a little in the candlelit room.

"Come now Undine, what's adventure without a little fear?" The Mermaid just sighed, ordering her captain to get some rest, before leaving the cabin and closing the door behind her.

Pitch studied the Captain; it was not often someone actually showed an appreciation towards fear, but the woman sounded as if she hoped for it, as if she wanted to experience it. He sneered at her. So she was one of those thrill seekers, was she? The type to laugh in the face of danger, to laugh at him and the fear he brought? The Boogeyman gritted his teeth in anger.

"Ye might as well come out now; I can practically hear ya brooding over thar." He inwardly startled at being addressed. Had she known he'd been there the whole time? Why allow him to stay? "C'mon, have a drink with me, Pitch." He rolled his eyes at that. Of course, she merely wished to continue their odd ritual of her talking and drinking whilst he insulted her.

He would have left, having no desire to be in the Captain's company any longer, but the knowledge of the Demon lingered in the back of his mind. He could perhaps us that to his advantage. Humans were still as superstitious as ever, the rumors of a Water Demon that feasted on children could do him some good. It was just a little more fear to go his way.

"How, out of all the spirits to exist, did you end up being the one who found the last Demon?" He asked blithely, trying to ignore how much skin the woman was showing. '_Does she have no sense of modesty?_' He asked himself as he eyes darted away from her form as she stretched, giving him a better view of her bandaged chest. She must have picked up on his distress because she put on her blue vest and buttoned it. It wasn't much, but at least Pitch could look at her without feeling so discomfited.

"I'm just lucky that way." She answered simply as she leaned against the headboard of her bed. He distantly noticed that the wood was carved, but didn't care enough to get a closer look. "Ye evar fight a Demon?" She asked curiously and he moved around the cabin, preferring to look over the room instead of looking at her.

"I've had my fair share of battles. The Demons were quite a bit more daring in the beginning of the Dark Ages. Some challenged me openly, others I had to hunt down. They weren't fond of how I warned the humans of their presence." He answered as he came up to the globe, admiring the lights that shone. "It was the only thing that Guardians and I were ever a united front upon. There were even a few encounters where they joined me."

"Heh, can't imagine Bunny was too happy about that." The Captain said, making him smirk a little. No, the rabbit had certainly not been pleased on any of those occasions. He'd always been the quickest to turn his weapons on Pitch when the dust cleared and the enemy lay defeated.

"Met the rabbit, have you?" He asked lightly, though she seemed to have sensed his sourness towards the furry Guardian because she answered him rather quickly.

"No, but I can see the future, remember?" Was her sardonic response. Pitch surprised himself as much as the Captain when a soft chuckle escaped his throat. Fortunately, she didn't bring any attention to his little slipup. He turned to look back at the woman, eyes shining brightly in the dark room.

"Tell me about this Demon you fought."

~Dark Waters~

Jonesy spent five days resting in her cabin before Undine finally gave her the all clear. It was the first time she'd been injured as a spirit, so she had no idea how quickly she was supposed to heal, but apparently she took a long time, if Marina was to be believed as a reliable source. She'd finally had a talk with Manny, well, she talked and he just shed some warm light on her, but she was pretty sure they were good now.

Not that they'd been on bad terms before, but still.

Today, as per following Undine's orders of taking it easy, she was currently lounging in the Caribbean, soaking in the sun and beautiful clear waters. Just as she began to nod off, Jonesy felt a light tap on her shoulder, startling her so badly that she fell off the railing and onto the deck. Looking up, she saw Sandy floating on a cloud of sand, laughing silently at her clumsiness.

"Hardy har har, very funny Sandy." She grouched as she pushed herself up, extremely happy that her wounds had healed over, even if they had left behind some ugly scars. He eventually calmed himself down and gave her a curious expression as a sand arrow appeared over his head, pointing towards her.

"What am I doin'?" She guessed and he nodded. "Well, I was restin'." He gave her a sheepish look that she could only smile at. "But, I 'ave been planin' t' check out the reef. It's an amazin' sight." She continued, smiling to herself as she remembered the last time she'd visited a coral reef.

He smiled at her in return, a kind of wonder and curiousness building in his eyes. It made her glad to see that he was taking such an interest in her seas and in the things that she cared about. A sudden thought struck her and Jonesy recalled how Sandy had used so many aquatic creatures in the movie. So far, she'd only ever seen him use birds, and woodland animals, like rabbits or deer.

Maybe she was supposed to show him this?

"Ya want t' see?" She asked eagerly and he tilted his head to the side, a question mark appearing over his head. She stripped most of her attire, leaving only her pants and white shirt, and dove into the clear seawater below.

She took a moment to enjoy the warm tropical water. Sighing happily as her fins twitched slightly, feeling as if an itch had just been scratched. While Jonesy didn't need to be in the water most of the time like her crew did, her body certainly appreciated a good swim every now and then. And she really hadn't been able to enjoy her brief stint in the Nile.

"C'mon in Sandy, the waters great!" He nodded excitedly before forming a diving board out of sand and jumping into the sea cannonball style.

As he fell, she briefly wondered if the water would affect him, but quickly shook off the silly thought. Just because he was called the Sandman didn't mean he was actually made of sand. Her thoughts were proven correct as he swam towards her, waving and looking untroubled by the new environment. She swam ahead of him, leading him towards the reef and marine life, pointing out things and explaining what she knew. Granted, her knowledge of coral reefs and the creatures that lived there wasn't much, but she knew enough to give him the basic information.

He instantly took a liking to the manta rays, which she'd expected, but there was a bit of a debacle with a jellyfish. She'd had to bite back a chuckle when Sandy glared after the retreating gelatinous animal, his stung finger in his mouth and pouting like a four year old. She watched as he swam up to look at everything, his face showing such marvel that it made her feel warm inside.

This was the beauty that her oceans had to offer.

A group of dolphins joined them after a little while; the playful mammals quickly becoming fond of Sandy's round and pudgy build, tossing him towards each other like he was a beach ball. He let himself be pushed around, giggling silently as their noses tickled his sides. She really did laugh then. She was able to offer a bit more information on what dolphins were like and what they could do; he seemed amazed that such gentle creatures could be so helpful.

Eventually, when they returned to the Flying Dutchman, Sandy was still beaming at her wildly as he gestured and recreated the things that they'd seen. It reminded her of an overexcited kid. When he left hours later, flying away on a giant manta ray made of sand, Jonesy knew that she'd done well.

~Dark Waters~

Jenny Greenteeth is a figure in English folklore. She's a river hag that would pull children or the elderly into the water and drown them. She was often described as green-skinned, with long hair, and sharp teeth. I put my own little twists on her, giving her a disguise used to enchant others, as well as an uglier form. I put up links of what she looks like in both forms on my profile.

I wrote in that last bit because I thought Jonesy could use a little happiness at this point. Plus, I always found it odd how Sandy used so many water themed creatures in his creations. I was really happy with how well I made that fit in with her character, giving a plausible reason for why he used dolphins and manta rays. It also made her way more relatable to the story, anchoring her into the Guardians' Universe even more.

~Hexalys~


	5. The Bandit and the Pirate

I want to thank everyone for taking the time to review!

Oho, I bet you can't guess who Jonesy meets in this chapter, go ahead guess *looks at title*. Okay, so it wasn't that hard to figure out, so sue me. I never claimed to be subtle. North is my second favorite character from RotG, Pitch of course being the first. I mean, how can you not love North? He's a badass Santa with freaking tattoos with duel-wielding! And like, nobody ever talks about how awesome he is, it's only "Jack's so hot" or "Bunny's voice is so amazing" (ugh, furries). I think North deserves a lot more love in the fandom.

Sorry, just had to get that off my chest, please enjoy and review!

~Dark Waters~

"_I have absolutely no pleasure in the stimulants in which I sometimes so madly indulge. It has not been in the pursuit of pleasure that I have periled life and reputation and reason. It has been the desperate attempt to escape from torturing memories, from a sense of insupportable loneliness and a dread of some strange impending doom._" ~Edgar Allan Poe

Chapter 4: The Bandit and the Pirate

It was the year 1544 when Nicholas St. North first caught sight of the large flying ship. Never in all his years had he seen something so large flying through the air, easily gliding over clouds and balancing on the wind without any trouble. It had truly been a wondrous vision to behold. He had instantly wanted to investigate the strange phenomena above, but he'd still had so many gifts left to deliver.

It was with a heavy heart, and more than a few backward glances, North flew his sleigh southeast, leaving behind the magnificent flying ship. When he returned hours later, just a few minutes before dawn, the ship was nowhere in sight.

The following months, as he thought up designs for new toys, his mind kept turning to the flying ship. Inspiration struck halfway through the year and he ordered all of his Yetis to begin making toy ships. There'd been some complaints, but North had brushed it aside as usual, reminding his workers that it was all for the children. The ships varied from all kinds and he let the Yetis make the toys through their own imaginings, very pleased with how the toys turned out. The children were going to love them.

North, however, made almost the same ship every time he was on the work floor. That wasn't to say that it wasn't impressive, his ships were far more detailed than any other. The white sails were made from his best fabric; he even added the little black flag at the top, though he had no idea what it signified.

It wasn't long before North realized he'd put too much care in his replicas of that flying ship. No children would be able to play with them without breaking them; the toys were far too fragile. Fortunately, the Yetis had made more suitable toys then him. It was with a regretful sigh that he placed the hundreds of ships in the back room, upset that such wonderful toys would not belong to any child.

It was three Christmases later when something unusual happened again, the flying ship had been momentarily forgotten in his rush to deliver toys to the ever expanding world. He'd been in one of the new port cities, a harbor-like town dedicated to the fishing industry. He'd explored the new settlement eagerly; interested at seeing how the families in the New World lived.

It was while he was flying over the town that he'd heard loud and obnoxious yelling down by the docks. Curious, he landed his sleigh near the moorings and went to discover who was making such noise at this time of night. He found the person, a woman with light blue hair, stumbling along the crates and barrels that had been setup earlier in the day. She weaved towards him unsteadily, a bottle in her hands while she sung off key, her clothes ruffled along with her appearance.

"'Ave a 'olly, jolly Chrishmash and when ye walk down the shtreet, shay 'ello t' friends ya know and everyone ya meet. Oh ho the mishtletoe, 'ung where ya can't shee. Shomebody waits for ya, kissh'em once for me." The woman slurred as she tripped and landed near North, who instinctively reached out to steady her. He was surprised that he could touch her, she seemed much too old to still believe in him, but she merely chuckled after recovering from her misstep.

"Hey, I know ye! Yer Shanta Claus, yep. I believed in ya when I was a wee lass!" The woman said excitedly before her face dropped. "Too bad ye weren't real back then." She brought the bottle up to her lips and North grimaced, finally able to smell the stink of alcohol that permeated from her. He took the bottle from her hands and she moaned at the loss of her drink, demanding that he return it to her.

"Uh-uh, no more bad drink, you've had enough." He said firmly and she gave him an impressive glare that was only slightly ruined when she hiccupped. "Come, we get you home." He gently grabbed her upper arm, but she was surprisingly nimble for someone so intoxicated. She slid out of his hold and brought up a sharp sword, pointing it at his nose in a threatening manner.

"Me drink matey, I'd very much like it back, shavvy?" North narrowed his eyes and took a closer look at the woman. While her blue hair had been more than a little strange, he found that there were other things far odder about her appearance. For one, she had fins on her arms and legs, strangely reminding him of Tooth at that moment, and had pointed ears. The more he looked over her appearance, the more he realized that she wasn't human at all. He raised his hands slowly, showing that he meant no harm.

"We have not announced ourselves as we should, I am Nicholas St. North. You are being?" The woman tilted her head, her earlier excitement returning in that moment. It was then that he got a good look at her eyes.

They were an odd, but beautiful seafoam green color. But there was something else to them, and as he looked more closely, North felt as if they were a reflection of the sea. When calm and serene, the ocean was an amazing sight to behold, but it could quickly turn dangerous and deadly when angry. This woman felt no different to him.

"I be Captain Davy Jones, pirate o' the sheven sehas, mashter of the Flyin' Dutchman." She said proudly, while almost managing to stab herself twice as she swung about her sword. "But me real name be Jonesy, don't tell no one though." She shushed at him in an exaggerated manner and despite himself, North chuckled at the woman's inability to keep her own secret.

His laughter disappeared however, when Jonesy pointed her cutlass at him again. She gestured to the bottle in his hand and he knew he had two possible choices. He could give Jonesy the bottle and turn back to his sleigh, delivering the rest of the presents, or he could help her and stay firm, not allowing her to poison herself even further.

"I'm very sorry Jonesy, but you will not be getting back bad drink." He only had a few seconds to dodge the wild slash that was aimed at his chest. He brought up one of his sabers, and blocked her second strike, mildly surprised at how much strength his smaller opponent had. In that respect, she reminded him of Sandy. "Now Jonesy, I don't want to fight you."

"'Ow'd ye know me real name?" She asked heatedly as she took a swipe at his feet that he managed to jump over. "Did Grimm tell ye? I'll keelhaul that scurvy bilge rat!" North tried to explain that he didn't know any Grimm and that she was the one who told him her secret, but instead he had to jump back to avoid an attack directed at his belly.

With little options left, he stuck the bottle into his large coat pocket and brought up his other sword. As he dueled with the woman, he found that she was very skilled in swordsmanship, though she still tended to stumble every now and then. He parried her attacks or redirected them away from himself harmlessly and after a few minutes, North found himself laughing from excitement.

It had been a long time since he'd last been in a fight. The last real battle he remembered was the one against Pitch Black from fifty years ago and he certainly hadn't had the chance to enjoy then; Pitch had been out for blood. Unlike now, sure Jonesy wanted her drink back, but she wasn't really trying to harm him, at least he didn't think she was. It did make him wonder how well she could fight while not being impaired by alcohol.

As he pushed back with a particularly strong lunge, Jonesy was forced to climb onto one of the crates that she'd stumbled into earlier. He followed her lead, blocking and attacking as they scaled up the mountain of barrels and boxes. It was only once they reached the top that he realized the new scenery was not the best place to have a sword fight. The objects under their feet wiggled and tilted dangerously and the ground was below them by a good eight feet.

Then it happened, a smaller crate that he'd been standing on shook precariously and he instinctively shot his arms out to regain his balance, leaving him unable to block Jonesy's sword. The sound of something being cut off rung throughout the quiet night air and his wide eyes landed on the large patch of white that seemed to float in front of his face for a moment.

Jonesy froze, her face twisted into astonishment and disbelief, before she broke out laughing hysterically. North, still in shock, brought a hand up to his beard, a small sound of incredulity escaping his throat as short sharp bristles greeted his calloused fingers.

"Moya boroda!" He shouted in horror, eyes falling on the clumps of white hair gathered at his feet. Jonesy was reduced to clutching her side at this point, her sword abandoned as she tried to regain her breath. He looked up at her, eyebrows narrowed as a furiousness raced through his blood.

But then the box that she stood on faltered and she tumbled backwards, her laughter dying as she disappeared over the edge. North felt his hands automatically reach out for her, even though he knew he couldn't possibly grab her in time. He heard a thump and quickly climbed down the crates, jumping the last few feet and rushing over to her side.

"Jonesy, Jonesy! Are you alright?" He stopped as he saw her form curled up on the cobblestone ground, unconscious. He bent down, seeing no wound other than a bump on the side of her forehead, and scooped her up into his arms. They returned to his sleigh, his reindeer seemingly interested in what he was carrying, and laid her down near the small sack of toys.

He checked on her occasionally as he delivered the rest of his gifts, but she didn't move for the rest of the night. As dawn arrived, he brought her back with him to the Workshop, knowing he couldn't just leave here somewhere in good conscience. As the Yetis greeted him, North assigned Phil to take care of Jonesy, trusting that his second in command would be able to help her.

~Dark Waters~

Jonesy groaned as she came to, gripping her aching head as a powerful internal force pounded behind her temples painfully. Her hangovers seemed to be getting worse every time she woke up. Maybe Manny was making them worse; she was pretty sure that an otherworldly protector over children should not indulge themselves in the spirits like she did. '_Then again, it isn't like any kids can see me, so what does it matter if I drink a little too much?_'

Jonesy glowered at herself, she hated self-pity, but there she went again, thinking her life was horrible and trying to drink the lonely nights away. Usually she had better control over how much she drank; the crew could normally pull her out of her funk before she could get too depressed. But last night had been Christmas Eve and the memories of lost loved ones and her lack of companionship had driven her to a new low.

She could only slightly recall the events of last night. There were blurred images of Undine's disappointed face and of her sneaking off the Flying Dutchman. Then arriving at a port town and breaking into some rum barrels left by the docks. There was something else there though, a flash of red and white, the shingling sound of swords hitting each other.

After a long moment, she slowly opened her eyes, flinching at the bright white ceiling above her. She moaned lowly, pulling the covers of a blanket over her head, and rolled onto her side. A moment later her body shot up, belatedly realizing that there was no white ceiling in her cabin.

She looked around her, eyes widening as she took in the carved wooden walls that looked like pine trees. She was lying in a soft bed, one that was smaller than her own and dressed with red sheets. She quickly got up and checked herself over.

She was wearing her clothes still, her boots had been placed next to the bed and she put them on at a fast pace, trying to ignore the throbbing of her head and failing at it miserably. Her hat and coat were missing, but Jonesy had the feeling that she'd just forgotten them on the ship when she'd snuck off last night. She couldn't remember taking them with her, but then again, she couldn't remember much of last night either.

Her cutlass, however, was nowhere to be seen. And she always carried her sword with her now that she knew that Jenny Greenteeth was out there.

Just as she was about to panic, a knock came from the bedroom door. It opened and she tensed, not knowing what to expect. A massive furry creature poked its' head into the room and she gaped, instantly recognizing the creature from the Rise of the Guardians movie.

Phil, and she was merely assuming it was him, looked at her for a second, seemingly surprised to find that she was awake and out of bed, before coming in with a tray full of Christmas cookies. He spoke, the noise sounded like growls and grunts that she couldn't understand, but his hand motions were easy enough to decipher: "get back on the bed." She did as he said, numbly sitting back down and simply staring as he set the tray down on the bedside table.

His massive hands reached out towards her, touching her head, and it was only then that Jonesy noticed that there was something wrapped around her forehead. A hand shot up to investigate, but Phil batted it away, messing with whatever it was and grumbling under his breath. After a moment, he pulled away with a small wad of white bandages in his grip.

"Wait, was I injured? How'd I get hurt?" She asked in surprise. "What am I even doing here?" He said something else and just pointed at the cookies, obviously already knowing it would be pointless to explain since she couldn't understand him. She nodded, muttering a thanks and he promptly marched out of the room without looking back.

The cookies were warm and she smiled at the sugary taste in her mouth. It had been a long time since she'd had sweets. While Jonesy had no problem with getting her hands on rum, baked goods were a little harder to come by out on the open seas. On occasion she ate food, apples and fruits mostly, but she'd shared a few meals with unsuspecting sailors as well. Her few stunts of pilfering cooked fish off of a plate in a tavern or in a ships' kitchen was never noticed much among people.

"Ah, is about time you woke up!" An easily recognizable Russian accented voice said from the doorway. Her head shot up in surprise, having not heard the man enter her room. "Come, Jonesy, come, we talk." North said as he gestured for her to follow him.

She jerked sharply at hearing her old name, only Grimm ever called her that and she didn't see very much of the Reaper, considering how busy he was. With another impatient wave of his giant hands, and a warm smile donned on his open face, she cautiously approached the most iconic spirit of the Guardians. He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at him in amazement.

_Santa Claus_, she was talking to the actual, really real, one and only, St. Nick. Jonesy decided this was definitely one of the coolest moments in her life, or rather, afterlife.

"I thought yer beard would be longer." She mused out loud, surprised by how much shorter his beard was now compared to the movie. It barely reached his collarbone. His face scrunched into a look that she couldn't place, before he laughed suddenly, the booming sound filled the room with a joyous merriment that was hard not to join. "Uh, how did I wind up here?"

"I see you are not remembering last night." North sort of answered. He chuckled again, leaving her no room to question him further. "We had very enjoyable fight, but perhaps got a little too carried away." His hand gestured to his short beard and Jonesy felt her eyes widen in shock.

"Are ye sayin' that I…?" She trailed off as he nodded, his round blue eyes shining with amusement. She felt her jaw drop and North laughed again. "I am so sorry, I–" He waved off the apology and lead her out of the room, her sputtering was cut off as her eyes landed on the work floor of North's Workshop.

It looked so unbelievable, so awe-inspiring, that the brief glimpse she'd had in the movie was nothing compared to the sight before her. While the up-to-date toys were missing, there was still so much magic in the air.

Toy boats of various sizes and spectacular colors soared over and across the atrium. She spotted riding stick-horses for young boys being carved by a few Yetis, while another group worked on different types of dolls for little girls. Rolling hoops moved down the hallways, weaving around the bumbling Elves without any help. Puppets moved on their own, rocking horses swayed through the air, and various spinning tops danced across the work floor.

"This be – I mean it's just – _wow_." North chuckled again and Jonesy didn't really have it in her to hide her awed expression.

"Come Jonesy, and I explain happenings from last night." And then she left trying to follow North through the Workshop. She ducked when she had to, stopped to let toys or Yetis walk by, and all the while strained to keep up with North, who navigated through the hazardous maze with ease. It took some minutes, even with a guiding hand from North on occasion, before they finally reached his office that she'd seen in the movie.

He shut the door behind them, the brass locks falling into place automatically. Her eyes roamed over the area, instantly liking the little niche of a room that the Russian had made for himself.

There was something so homey about it, reminding her of a little log cabin, even if most of the walls were made of ice. There was a fire roaring in the hearth, a wide window took up most of the back wall, showing snowflakes floating by in a sea of white. Toys littered wooden shelves and ice sculptures covered the center worktable. A large bed was pushed off in the corner wall, with a detailed wooden frame, and red and white blankets. A platter with a few half eaten cookies rested on the bedside table.

"Hmm, Elves should have brought new cookies by now." He muttered as he eyed the room, obviously looking for said sugary treats. "Bah, no matter, now is the time for talking."

"Aye." She said agreeably, taking the chair that he offered as North leaned against the edge of the worktable. "What did happen last night?" Her question made his face light up like a Christmas tree.

And for the next half-an-hour Jonesy listened to his tale of how they'd met. Though, she was more than a little peeved for not being able to remember it on her own. She silently vowed to never allow herself to become that drunk ever again. She laughed at the actions of her drunken self, at North's terrible attempt at reenacting their fight. And finally, she completely lost it when he told her about how his beard had received an unexpected trim.

"I'm very sorry North, really. Feelin' all contrite, I am." He gave her a look that was full of both doubt and mirth and Jonesy had to bite her lip to keep back the new wave of snickers that threatened to break through her guard. "Honest." She insisted firmly, though her smirk refused to budge and turn into a heartfelt frown like she wanted it to. He shook his head good-naturedly, clearly over having lost several inches from his once lengthy beard.

"Is water under bridge." He said amiably, taking a bite out of a cookie that the Elves had brought in during the middle of his story. "Now, tell me about who Captain Davy Jones is, yes? How old are you? What is purpose Manny gives you?"

"Ah, well, me purpose is t' guard those who travel by sea." She said easily, shaking her head at the cookie he offered. "Let's see, I'll be… 35 years old come May and as for who I be, well that'll take a bit longer t' answer, matey. I'm Captain o' the Flyin' Dutchman and her crew–" She stopped there, a sense of alarm taking over her face as she remembered something very important. "Blast, I completely forgot about me crew!" She shot up from her seat, startling North, and began pacing as she muttered liable explanations under her breath.

"Crew?" His bushy eyebrows furrowed slightly. "You have a crew? What are they like?"

"Huh, oh, they're Mermaids." She answered absently, not seeing the marveled expression on North's face. She focused her thoughts, trying to recall what happened last evening before her mind had fallen into a drunken haze.

The crew had been with her early in the night. Over the years, they'd slowly come to understand how lonely she got around Christmas, but they couldn't stay with her long. They could only be out of water for a few hours at a time. And she'd felt too sorry for herself to actively look for their company. Instead, she'd decided to drown her sorrows in alcohol.

Undine had found her that way at half-past midnight and had locked her up in her cabin after confiscating all of her rum. Jonesy could barely remember sneaking out of the windows and swimming to port, but nothing much after that.

She grimaced at the floor, Undine must be furious with her.

"Mermaids." North said in wonder. He'd never seen the creatures, but he knew of them from the children who'd sent him letters asking for dolls crafted in their likeness. Unfortunately, having never seen a Mermaid himself, he could only create the toys from his own imaginings. Suddenly, a brilliant idea struck him. "They are worried about you, dah?" He asked happily and Jonesy nodded, still too deep in her own thoughts to pay attention to what he was saying. "Then we go see them."

"Wait, what?" She asked quickly, confused by the sudden turn of events. "What do ye mean?" North grabbed his coat off of a hook near the fireplace, along with his furry hat. "We're going t' see who?"

"You're crew of course!" He responded jovially as they headed out of his office and back onto the work floor.

"We most certainly are not!" She argued back, though he was barely listening at this point, ordering the nearest Yeti to prepare the sleigh and to get her things. "Undine will murder me. It would be best to wait a few days for her temper t' calm down, savvy?" As she continued to explain that this was a bad idea, the Captain didn't even realize that they'd moved lower into the Workshop until she saw the sleigh and reindeer.

"Easy Jonesy, we will be fine." He stated calmly as he looked over the sleigh and petted the leading reindeer. "Is it not best to face music now?"

"No, it's definitely not." She replied stubbornly as she eyed the sleigh, which okay, way cooler in real life. Though she could tell that it lack the modifications it had in the movie. "Besides, I can't leave without me effects." A nearby Yeti, the same from earlier, entered the room with said items, and she groaned before taking them. Apparently, she had taken her coat with her after all.

"Will not be so bad, you are simply blowing things out of proportion." He offered, blues eyes taking in the sight over her impressive black tailcoat and sword resting at her waist. She looked more intimidating than a few seconds ago. Jonesy merely nodded at him, resigning herself to her fate and climbed into the sleigh. He moved to follow her lead, but paused as Phil, Pascal, and Perth also climbed into the sleigh. "Now what do you think you three are doing?"

Jonesy had no idea what the lead Yeti said, but North understood and merely sighed in response. The Yeti that helped her earlier sat down next to her, its warm fur and body heat secretly welcomed by the Captain. While cold temperatures normally didn't bother her, she found that the North Pole was testing and overcoming her resistance.

"Jonesy, these two are being Perth and Pascal." He said as he gestured to the two light brown Yetis who'd remained standing. They looked almost completely identical, except Pascal had a layer of white fur surrounding his eyes. She waved and they mimicked the action. "And this is Phil; he treated your head injury." He said, pointing out the Yeti that she'd pegged as Phil earlier. Jonesy opened her mouth to say hello, but her body suddenly lurched backwards as the sleigh charged forwards, cutting her off.

Phil caught her before she could be flung out of the sleigh and she offered him a smile before her attention turned towards the rollercoaster-like ride. The speed, sharp turns, and loop-de-loops reminded her of times spent at amusement parks. She laughed and shouted along with North, while the Yetis hung on and grumbled sourly to each other. Once they left the ice cave and were in the air, she moved over to North.

"So, how are ye plannin' on findin' me ship?" She asked lightly, though she would bet that they would most likely use his snow globes. True to her predictions, North gave her a wink before pulling out said item from his coat pocket. He handed it to her and she managed to muster up what she hoped to be a confused look.

"Merely shake snow globe and speak destination into it, then throw, is very simple." She did as he explained, already knowing how it worked, and threw it ahead of them by a good distance. Being sucked into the wormhole, because Jonesy was pretty sure that's what it was, was a very unique feeling. She felt dizzy, but there was more to it.

It was as if the world was shifting around her while she remained still.

She heard North gasp as they appeared on the other side and she shook her head before looking around. Her ship was below them, sailing along the coast of the New World and she could see a quarter of the crew running about the deck.

"This is your ship?" He asked in a stunned whisper and she felt her chest swell with pride at the blatant look of amazement on his face.

"Ye should see it in the sky." She chuckled and an odd noise escaped his throat before he let out a shout.

"I knew it was same ship I saw three years ago!" His rosy cheeks were even brighter than usual and he turned to give her a bone crushing hug. "Ha-ha, I knew there was a reason we met, is fate!" Jonesy wasn't exactly sure what he was talking about, but she was too busy nursing her bruised back to bother asking. When they landed on the ship's deck, Undine was standing ahead of the crew to greet them and looking particularly irritated.

When she spotted Jonesy, she looked downright pissed.

"Nice of you to show up, Captain." She tried to give her First Mate an innocent smile, but Undine had already moved on to address North and the others. She winced; oh, Undine was very angry with her. "I take it you were the one to find our wandering commander?" She asked and North nodded silently, looking much more subdued than a few moments ago. "Then you have our gratitude." The crew seemed to exhale as a group when Undine gave him a small smile.

"Allow me to introduce, Nicholas St. North and his friends, Phil, Pascal, and Perth. Fellas, this be me crew and First Mate, Undine." Jonesy said with an easy smile and the crew rushed over to meet them, most only having an eye for North. But oddly enough, she saw Kelpie and Stream talk to Pascal and Perth. She turned to Undine to ask what that was all about, but found her First Mate deep in a conversation with Phil.

She caught the Mermaids' eye, and Undine flushed lightly before turning back to Phil. Amazed at catching her First Mate blushing, she looked over at Kelpie and Stream and found that they were in a similar state. Was it possible that the rest of her crew would be attracted to North's Yetis? How did they even understand them? Curious, she turned to North, who was too interested in the ship to notice all of the 'come hither' looks her shipmates were sending him.

"North?" He hummed, so she continued. "How many Yetis do ye 'ave?" She saw her crew perk up at that.

"Hmm, oh, thirty." He answered distractedly while pulling on the rope to the main sails. Her crew whispered excitedly to each other, obviously having already seen that their crewmates had been stuck by Cupid's arrow. She furrowed her eyebrows at that answer.

What were the odds that Manny would give her thirty Mermaids to match North's thirty Yetis? He wasn't playing matchmaker now, was he? She gave the blue sky a suspicious glance.

It was too much of a coincidence not to be taken seriously, especially with that dreamy expression on Undine's face, who had never once lost her cool around a man before. The Yetis also seemed to be enjoying themselves, though Jonesy couldn't really be sure since she could hardly make out their expressions under all that fur. Their body postures seemed at ease though and they weren't tripping over themselves from the allure her crew usually gave off.

North finally looked up from his investigation of the Flying Dutchman and found his Yetis were hitting it off with three beautiful Mermaids. He gave Jonesy a bemused look, her face just as unsure as his. He'd obviously never seen his workers act like this before.

"Jonesy, what is going on?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at Phil, as the usually stoic Yeti smiled warmly at the First Mate. The Captain merely rolled her eyes and gave a scoff. Her one worded answer just confused him even more.

"Twitterpated."

~Dark Waters~

When North says "Moya boroda!" he's actually saying "My beard!" in Russian. I was going to either have him say "Shostakovich" or "Korsakov" like he did in the movie, but Shostakovich is actually alluding to Dmitri Shostakovich, a Russian composer who wasn't born until 1906. Korsakov comes from another Russian composer, Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov, who wasn't born until 1844. I obviously couldn't use either word, so I just went with him exclaiming things in Russian.

I know North has a Russian accent, and that he sometimes says things wrong, like the "brass of tacks" line that he used in the movie. I've seen some writers replace the W's with V's when they have him speak, making him say "vell" instead of "well", but he didn't really have any problem with pronunciations. There's an underling inflection in his speech, but it's not as noticeable as with Bunny. He's sort of like Pitch in that regard.

Twitterpated means to be excited or overcome by romantic feelings; smitten. The origin of the word comes from the animated Disney movie, Bambi.

~Hexalys~


	6. The First Believer

I want to thank everyone for taking the time to review!

Sup, guys? Yeah, I know it's been a while, but I do have seven other stories to focus on. And let's face it; this story isn't in high demand in comparison to my others. For those of you who'd been following From A Rose on the Grey, I have some good news. True I took it down, but the plot from it will be used in the sequel, meaning all the characters I'd created will come back, except for Rose of course. So if you loved Chester the Jester or Grimm, no worries, you'll be seeing them again.

Pointless alert aside, please read and review!

~Dark Waters~

"_Children see magic because they look for it._" ~Christopher Moore

Chapter 6: The First Believer

James Rooked was the smallest twelve year old in his town. While the other boys had gone out to sea with their fathers by the age of ten, he had been left at home with his mum and little sister, deemed too small to be of any help. Finally though, his pa had decided he was big enough to help row the boat and reel in the fisting net. It was understandable for why he was so excited then.

He waited down by the moorings; his pa had to talk with the docking manager, trying to catch a glimpse of any fish that may have come too close to the shore. He was determined to catch the biggest fish that the village ever saw. That was sure to make his pa proud of him.

"Goin' out on yer first sailin', lad?" A gruff voice suddenly asked and James looked up to see an old man sitting on some netting upon a nearby crate. He was scruffy looking, caked in dirt, and James saw that the man was missing an eye.

"Yes sir." He answered warily; his mother had warned him about talking to strangers.

"Well then, ye'd best keep a sharp eye out fer Mermaids." The old man said as he took out a flask, drinking its contents and making a face that had James suppressing a laugh.

"Mermaids, sir? What sort of fish are they?" He asked interestingly, forgetting himself for a moment as he approached the stranger.

"Ain't no fish, boy, least not fully." The old man grumbled. "They be women, the most beautiful ye'd ever lay yer eyes on, with scaled tails instead of legs."

"They sound amazing, sir." James said as he tried to imagine the creatures the old man had described.

"Aye, that they do lad, but they can be dangerous too. They lure ships aground; takin' the lives of the men onboard but sparin' any children they find. Ain't nobody sure why, perhaps Davy Jones is just savin' them fer the Locker?"

"Davy Jones?" James asked nervously, now that was a name he was familiar with. "As in the ghost pirate, sir?" The old sailor nodded, taking out a pipe and stuffing the tip with some sort of tobacco.

"Hmm, the Mermaids are Davy Jones's to control lad. She sends them out into the sea to scavenge fer poor sods who'd been lost to the storms. Though, I have heard tales that a Mermaid will bring the children to shore from time to time."

"She? I thought Davy Jones was a man?" He asked and the old man shook his head.

"Why do ye think having women aboard ships is considered bad luck, lad?" The old man didn't wait for an answer and continued. "The story be that Davy Jones was once a beautiful woman, a countess who waited fer her betrothed to return from his voyage to the New World. As the years passed, and with no news given of his fate, she hired a crew and sailed after him. A terrible storm hit their ship, the likes of which never seen before, it was if Poseidon himself had summoned the tempest. The ship was lost at sea, the crew and Davy Jones drowned."

"What about her betrothed?" James asked.

"Well that's the kicker, isn't it? He was perfectly fine. Found himself a lass lovelier than Davy Jones and settled down in the New World, livin' as a wealthy plantation owner. Enraged in death, Davy Jones made a deal with the devil, harvestin' him new souls fer the rest of eternity in exchange for damnin' her spurned lover to the fiery pits of hell." The old man said, taking a puff from his pipe and blowing it in James's direction, causing him to gag.

"That's horrible." He said sadly and the old man nodded.

"Most women are, lad. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." James opened his mouth to argue. To say that it was the man's fault for being unfaithful, for never even writing a letter to explain himself, but was interrupted as his father called for him. "Like I said lad, keep a weathered eye out for Mermaids. And pray that ye don't meet Davy Jones."

~Dark Waters~

Jonesy wasn't frequently found on the seas these days. She'd actually taken to the sky more often than not, seeing as there wasn't much good she could do on the waters. Her stints in the sky took away her time from being around the crew, and Undine had talked to her more than once about the distance she was purposefully creating.

It wasn't that Jonesy was trying to avoid the others; she just didn't always want to be surrounded by Mermaids who acted like sixteen year old teenagers most of the time. If she had to categorize her crew, most would be those popular cheerleaders that she feuded with during her high school years. That didn't mean she didn't like her crew, they were all her friends. They had her back and their endless gossiping did nothing to hinder their loyalty.

Jonesy knew she could never find a better crew, would never want to either.

But that didn't change the fact that they could still get on her nerves more than half the time, especially when most of their conversations revolved around her. "_Do you think the Captain's upset about still not having a Believer yet?_" "_What's going on between the Captain and the Boogeyman?_" "_Is there a love triangle between the Captain, North, and Pitch_ _Black?_" "_Don't you think the Captain would look better with braided hair?_"

She couldn't handle the whispered conversations anymore, and while Jonesy knew her distance would likely cause more mutterings, at least she wouldn't have to hear it in the sky. Undine, Manny bless her, understood to a certain extent, but she also knew the issue went deeper than that. One of the rumors was right.

She was upset at having no Believers.

Manny had brought her back to the year 1513, it was now 1561. Forty-eight years and not once had a human, adult or child, seen her or the Flying Dutchman. Frankly, she had no idea how Jack had managed to go three hundred years without being seen, it was torture.

North and Sandy assured her that it took time, Undine told her to be patient. Only Grimm and Pitch had bothered to tell her the truth instead of trying to comfort her. There had been no other Spirit who'd gone this long without a Believer before. Grimm had been kinder in delivering the news than Pitch, who'd worn a slightly vindictive smile at the time. Misery loves company after all and Pitch's decline in Believers had taken their toll on the Boogeyman, leaving him exhausted and bitter.

Her relationship with the Boogeyman wasn't exactly one that Jonesy could accurately describe. She knew where she stood with others. Sandy and her were best friend, North was quickly becoming a close second. Just last week the three of them had spent all day locked in North's office, coming up with new toy ideas for next Christmas.

Undine, while motherly at times, was more like a sister and the crew reminded Jonesy of the sorority sisters she had from her college days. Grimm, oddly enough, was her confidant. She told him everything, shared her inner most thoughts, and he offered guidance when he could. He was like that one cool Uncle whom you could tell anything to, knowing that your secrets were safe.

Pitch was so much harder to place though. At times, he just ridiculed Jonesy, and as much as she liked to banter, sometimes he just took it too far, much like their last conversation. It had started out pleasantly enough; she'd even managed to get the brooding spirit to play her in a game of chess. But then Undine had interrupted them halfway through, telling Jonesy that North was expecting her at his Workshop within the hour.

Jonesy had thought nothing of it, but after a few minutes, she'd noticed Pitch's sudden silence. When Jonesy had looked up, she caught him glaring at the globe, blatantly ignoring that it was his turn. And then he'd stupidly asked what was wrong. He went off on her, calling her a fool who wasn't worth his time and had left before she could even form a response.

It didn't take much brainstorming for her to figure out the source of Pitch's sudden ire. He still hated the Guardians after all and he clearly didn't like her spending time with them. Jonesy, for some ridiculous reason, had actually felt guilty for a few minutes before shaking it off. North and Sandy were her friends; she wasn't going to stop seeing them just because Pitch threw a temper tantrum. However, that incident had happened over a month ago, and she'd yet to see a single sign of Pitch in her cabin.

So what was Pitch to her? Obviously his avoidance bothered her, and Jonesy hated it when he would lash out at her. She disliked how he looked down on her most of the time or when he continuously pointed out her lack of Believers.

But, she enjoyed talking to Pitch more than she did anyone else. She's grown fond of his rants that ranged to just about everything, or how they sometimes argued over stupid things. She liked trying her hand at beating him in chess or the drinks they shared after one of her nightmares.

In essence, he was a brat, but Jonesy realized, that was probably what she liked best about Pitch.

A sudden shout from down below, one that was carried up to her by the Wind, caught Jonesy's attention, shaking her out of her musings. She looked overboard and spotted a small fishing boat half-sunk in the water with two people aboard.

She had the Wind bring the Flying Dutchman down and sailed up to the wreckage. A boy was struggling to stay above water with one hand while his other secured an adult, trying to keep the unconscious man from drowning. Nathan flashed through her mind and Jonesy distantly wondered if she could handle watching another child drown in her arms.

"Hang on lad!" She shouted down to the boy, about to rush off and retrieve a magic shell Undine had given her. It acted as an emergency call that could be heard by her crew, letting them know that she needed their help.

"Please help us ma'am!" Jonesy froze.

Had she heard right? Had the boy actually seen her?

She turned back to the sea, and sure enough, the lad was looking up towards her, swimming towards her ship. Elation like she'd never known seemed to build in her chest. The emotion was so strong it almost made Jonesy burst into laughter. Pushing her excitement aside was hard, but Jonesy managed it and grabbed the nearest rope, throwing it overboard.

"Tie that around yerselves." She called down, half expecting the child to not hear her. Amazingly the lad did just as she'd instructed. '_He really can see me! I have a Believer!_' She pulled the boy up, getting some help from the Wind, and stepped back as he tended to the man who seemed to be just fine. "Ye alright lad?" He looked up at her with brown eyes, tears building in their corners and he bit his lip. She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder to comfort him and was only slightly surprised when he wrapped his arms around her waist. "It's okay lad, I got ye."

It took some minutes for the boy to calm down. Jonesy patted his back patiently, humming a jaunty sailor tune she'd learned a few years ago as the boy's sniffles subsided. As much as she didn't want to, Jonesy stepped away from the hug and looked over her first Believer, drinking in the sight of him. The lad wasn't as young as Nathan had been, Jonesy could tell that right away. Perhaps he was a few years older. His hair was blonde and pulled back into a short ponytail. He had a white shirt, a plain black vest over it, black britches, and a pair of simple shoes.

"What's yer name lad?" She asked softly and he bit his lip again before answering.

"James Rooked, ma'am." He watched her with wide eyes, his face morphing into an emotion that was rarely directed towards the outgoing captain.

Fear.

For once, Jonesy found herself cursing Manny for the changes he'd made to her body. Blue hair was odd enough in this time era, but the pointy ears and scales were the sure to get her pegged as a demon. The boy pulled away, shaking like a leaf, and retreated to sleeping man who was most likely the lad's father. Jonesy cast a glance over the unconscious adult. There was a slight bump on his head, but he otherwise seemed alright.

"Well Jim, count yerself fortunate that I was sailin' in the area. No Mermaid would 'ave come through this area for another few hours." The boy stiffened, standing defensively in front of his old man and Jonesy felt her heart breaking at the sight. Her first Believer and he clearly wanted nothing to do with her. "The name be Captain Davy Jones."

"Are – are you going to t-take our souls to hell?" Jim stuttered over his words, looking even more terrified now that Jonesy had introduced herself.

"What! No? Where'd ya hear a fool thing like that?" She asked, appalled that Jim thought she would do such a thing. He blinked in surprise, clearly having expected a much different answer. "Lad, I take people back t' shore. I don't send'em t' hell." She didn't bother to mention that there was no hell.

"But that sailor said–"

"Forget what that idiot said and listen t' what I be tellin' ya now." She growled, unintentionally making Jim flinch. "I be Davy Jones and this is me ship, the Flyin' Dutchman. My job is t' find those who are lost at sea and return them t' land, safely. Me Mermaids help in the task as well." Jim narrowed his eyes, whether in thought or suspicion, Jonesy had no idea. "Don't believe me, eh?" Jim looked down at the deck; his silence was more than answer enough. "What did that sailor say?"

"He said that you were once a beautiful woman engaged to a man who sailed to the New World. After years with no word, you hired a crew to search for him and drowned at sea. In death you found out that he had already married and was living happily. Angry, you made a deal with the devil, who took your betrothed's soul and you promised to gather those lost at sea, sending them to hell." Not once did Jim's eyes rise from the deck as he spoke, his words barely more than a whisper.

Jonesy couldn't help it; she burst into a fit of laughter.

"That has t' be," she paused to keep herself from snickering, "the most ridiculous thing I've evar heard." Jim looked thoroughly confused. "Jimbo, I've never been in love 'fore and I've certainly never been engaged." She plopped herself down on the deck, legs sprawled out as she pulled her hat off to run a hand through her hair. "Sailors be such a superstitious lot. The stories they come up with."

"So… it's not true?" Jim asked hesitantly and Jonesy couldn't help but chuckle again.

"Nope, but I give the man points for tyrin'." She half-wondered if most people believed that story. If so, she shouldn't expect many warm welcomes in the future. "A scorned lover sellin' her soul t' the devil, cursed t' sail the seas for all time. It's not that unfamiliar o' a tale, but definitely not mine." It strangely reminded her of the Pirates of the Caribbean Davy Jones though.

"So… you're going to take me and my pa back home?" From his accent, Jonesy guessed that Jim was from England. It was thicker than Pitch's accent, but she was just counting her blessings that he spoke English. Despite her near fifty years as a spirit Jonesy, knew very little when it came to other languages. She could speak a little French, but not much else.

"Sure am lad, just tell me where and the Dutchman will get us thar in no time." She answered easily, slowly pulling herself to her feet. "But first we best get yer dad into me cabin, a bed would be much better for him than the deck." Without thinking she reached forwards to carry the man, hissing slightly as her hands went through his shoulder.

"You can't touch him!?" Jim gasped and Jonesy frowned as she rubbed her hands together, trying to get rid of the sting the coursed through her skin. "Why not? Are you a ghost?"

"Yes and no. I can only touch people who Believe in me." She sighed sadly. "C'mon lad, ye will 'ave t' carry him." Jim struggled under his dad's weight and ended up having to drag him to the cabin. Getting him onto the bed had almost been an impossible feat, but somehow the lad managed. Jim placed himself firmly at his father's feet, warily watching Jonesy as she moved about the room. "Where do ye live, lad?"

"In Ipswich, it's a fishing village near–" He cut himself off with a yawn and the Captain smiled at him slightly.

"I know where it be. Rest, it'll only take an hour or so before yer back home." Jonesy left the room to let Jim lay down next to his father. It wasn't the happy meeting that she'd been dreaming of for the past fifty years, but she could make it work.

The only thing that mattered was that she had a Believer.

~Dark Waters~

Pitch scowled as he appeared in the Captain's cabin. His last visit had left a sour taste in his mouth and he'd kept his distance for three months. Strangely though, he'd felt compelled to check on the woman, especially since she hadn't been having her usual bad dreams.

He was therefore surprised not too find her in her cabin. Every visit he'd made the woman had been in her room, as if she could sense his arrival. He'd found it annoying before, but seeing her not in her proper place was far more vexing. Laughter from beyond the room caught Pitch's attention and he cautiously slipped into the shadows, appearing on the deck but still hidden. The sight that greeted him left the Boogeyman too stunned to move.

There was a boy, wearing ostentatious pirate garb, swinging a wooden sword about as the Captain blocked and countered.

Pitch felt something inside of him twist into a knot and the world seemed to teeter around him. And then he felt inexplicably furious at this boy who Believed in Davy Jones. Without realizing it, Pitch had revealed himself, an angry tremor shaking through his lanky frame as he glowered at the child who'd failed to notice his presence.

'_He can't see me._' That thought, that sentence, were the words the Pitch came to hate the most in this world. He hadn't used them for centuries, for if a child didn't Believe, then he still had thousands of others who did. It was of no consequence. Now his numbers had diminished so much that it was laughable.

The woman however, did see him. She stared for a second before a wide smile split across her face. Pitch was taken by surprise as something within him reacted. He could only describe it as his insides wiggling, but it was too unfamiliar of a reaction for him to properly identify. It wasn't completely unpleasant, or even painful, but it was different and he was unsure of what the sensation meant. He settled for glaring at the woman instead.

"Pitch, come join us! This scallywag be after me ship and me treasures!" The Captain called and the boy turned to look at him, eyes baring confusion as he saw nothing. Pitch refused to feel the sting that came with being unseen. "Remember me telling ye about Pitch Black?" She said to the little urchin, who nodded meekly in response. "Then just picture him in yer head. Believe in him like ya do me."

The child closed his eyes, hands gripping the faux sword tightly, muttering under his breath. Pitch remained where he was, uncertain of what was going on. The woman was trying to get the brat to Believe in him, but for the life of him he couldn't understand why. She owed him nothing and if she felt such an act would leave him indebted to her, than she had another thing coming. A slight gasp broke his musings and the child looked up at him with wide brown eyes.

"Hey, he doesn't have fangs!" The boy shouted and Pitch felt himself reek back a little, the boy's eyes surprisingly following his movement.

"You can see me?" The child nodded easily and the Captain playfully nudged the boy's shoulder. "Fangs?" The child's face scrunched up sourly and the woman snickered, poking the back of his head in a teasing manner.

"I thought the Boogeyman would be really big, with sharp fangs and claws." The child mumbled in response and Pitch nodded. Most children expected the same and that was how he preferred it. "Davy kept changing her story about what you looked like. Last time she said you had the fangs of a wolf."

"All the better t' eat ya with me dear." The Captain chuckled as the boy pouted at her. She indulged the child by patting his head before turning to back Pitch. Her smile dimmed a little, becoming something more and the wiggling returned to his stomach, making Pitch shift uncomfortably. "Pitch, meet James Rooked, my first Believer."

Pitch didn't bother took look over at the child, but kept his gaze locked on the woman. The heaviness that seemed to have burdened her for so long had lessened. She stood taller, as if she'd been rejuvenated. It was almost as if she glowed. And she looked happier than she had in decades. The furiousness he'd felt earlier was all but gone, replaced with a smidgen of gratitude.

Jones was better, she had a Believer, and for whatever reason, she'd even decided to share that Belief with him.

Pitch wasn't sure what to do next though. He was the Boogeyman, fear embodied. He didn't play make-believe with children, he terrified them. He looked at the Captain, face forcefully blank and she winked in response before turning to the child. Pitch was appalled and utterly mortified to feel his face heat up. How dare this woman act so, so… _shamelessly_ and make him feel like a fool. Fortunately, Jones missed his moment of humiliation.

The child, however, did not. The boy sent him a smirk and Pitch would have liked nothing more than to drag the brat into the closest pit of darkness and leave him there.

"How'd ye like t' play the bag guy, Mister Black?" She asked, interrupting his glare at the child. He paused for a moment and stared at her incredulously before managing to reclaim his composure. He crossed his arms and turned around, heading back to the shadows.

"Hmph, I have neither the time nor the idiocy to be bothered with such absurdness." Still feeling slightly perturbed, Pitch was fully prepared to return to home. Honestly, how daft was the woman? Asking him of all creatures to play with a child! She was worse than North.

"Oh, okay, I get it. The villain would 'ave t' be scary after all, and ye've been out o' practice for a while." He froze as he heard her insinuation, one foot already swarmed in the darkness. "If ya can't do it, that's fine."

"Are you implying that I, the Boogeyman, am not scary enough to participate in your foolish game?" She shrugged and Pitch summoned the shadows forwards, commanding it to take the shape of a Kraken. Its silhouette sprawled across the deck, tentacles reaching out at everything. The boy retreated behind the woman. Fear spilled from the child and Pitch let himself laugh at the two. Jones though, merely smiled in response.

"Come Captain James, we'll 'ave t' put our fight on hold." She raised her sword and even though fear radiated from the boy, he did the same. A determined look built in the child's eye, one that only grew as Jones laughed. "We 'ave a beastie to slay!"

~Dark Waters~

Jonesy waved goodbye at Jim as the Flying Dutchman took to the air. After their initial meeting three months ago, she and the child had quickly grown close. When Jim and his father had arrived back in Ipswich, they'd caused quite the scene, especially since Jim said that it was Davy Jones who'd saved them from a watery grave.

The town children younger than Jim instantly believed his story, especially his little sister Bethany. When she'd arrived in Ipswich a week later, Jonesy was greeted by a small circle of children who'd stared in awe at her and the Dutchman. She'd played pirate with them and for the first time in decades, she'd felt completely content. Of course, Jim was still her favorite. While she played with the children often, James was the one she spent most of her time with.

The sailors of Ipswich, true to their nature of spreading rumors, had told her tale to others. They talked of her unusual appearance, about what the Dutchman looked like, and perhaps most importantly, they spoke of how she'd saved Jim and his father. Pitch may enjoy, but Jonesy didn't want the children to be afraid of her.

"Bye Davy, bye Mr. Black! Next time we'll have to bring Bethany!" Jimbo yelled as she flew over the town, heading back to the sea. A few of the children called up to her and she returned their greetings happily.

Pitch remained silent.

She shot a glance at the dark spirit, unsure of how to begin the conversation. He'd surprisingly been a very good addition in their little game of make-believe. Jonesy had worried at first that he would've taken things too far, that Pitch might have tried to truly scare Jim. Of course he'd still scared the lad from time to time throughout their game, but as Jonesy had always said, what was adventure without a little fear. Besides, she wouldn't have let anything happen to Jim and the boy knew it.

"Now that was a good day." She sighed happily and Pitch still said nothing. "We'll 'ave t' do that again soon, I think Jim really enjoyed it."

"Why?" Pitch's question was so quiet, Jonesy almost didn't hear it.

"Why not?" She retorted and his blank face twisted into a scowl, clearly unhappy with her answer.

"Why would you instill that child's Belief in me? I am not like North or the others. I don't bring enjoyable things such as dreams or toys. I bring fear, I–"

"Ye bring safety and common sense." Jonesy interrupted firmly. "The Guardians 'ave pleasant things t' give the children. Wonder, Dreams, Hope, they help children see the world in a better light. But we know better, don't we Pitch?" She didn't look at the man as she spoke, but instead looked out at the sea. The sun was setting on the horizon, painting the sky a mesh of beautiful colors filled with pinks, purples, and blues. "The world can be cruel and dark."

"Oh? You think you're not like the Guardians? You just spent the day catering to the whims of a child." He sneered and Jonesy smirked.

"So did ye." He growled, but didn't deny it. "Me purpose is t' make sure people don't die Pitch. Is that not a grim responsibility? Yers be t' scare them so that they know not t' venture into the woods alone or t' be wary o' heights so that they don't fall. Ye help them survive. In that way, ye and I be more alike than any o' the others."

When she turned back to him minutes later, Jonesy was not surprised to see him gone.

~Dark Waters~

Okay this chapter is my shortest ones yet, but the whole point of it was to show you Jonesy's first Believer and to show you how her tale started spread. In those days, people believed in many myths and stories. I don't find it hard to believe that some adults believed in Jonesy too.

We finally get to see how Jonesy's and Pitch's relationship has evolved. I figured that Pitch would have no idea what if felt like to have a crush on someone, seeing how bad he is with people. You know that butterflies in the stomach sensation? Well Pitch described it as 'wiggling'. Really, I just found it to too adorable.

~Hexalys~


End file.
